2.2- 


ACRES  O 

14«  FAC. 
U»M»«IACH.  CALtl 


THE    GOLDEN   JUSTICE 


BY 


WILLIAM    HENRY   BISHOP 

AUTHOR  OF  "THE  HOUSE  OF  A  MERCHANT  PRINCE,"  "DETMOLD' 
"CHOY  SUSAN,"  AND  OTHER  STORIES 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND  COMPANY 


1890 


Copyright,  1887, 
•V  WILLIAM  HENRY  BISHOP. 

All  rights  reserved. 


Tht  Riverside  Press,  Cambridge,  Mass.,  U.  S.  A. 
Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  H.  O.  Houghton  &  Company 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

I.  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE  is  RAISED  ALOFT      .     .  1 

n.  A  MAN  OF  THE  WORLD 16 

III.  MBS.  VAREMBERG 35 

IV.  A  TRUER  PICTURE  OF  MRS.  VAREMBEKG    .     .  57 
V.  A  NEW  PARTNER  AT  BARCLAY'S  ISLAND     .     .  84 

VI.   "  TAUGHT   BY  MISFORTUNE,  I  PITY  THE  UN- 
HAPPY"   105 

VII.   A  RANDOM  PROPHECY       133 

/III.    A  MEETING    AT   THE   FOOT    OF    THE    GOLDEN 

JUSTICE 152 

IX.   A  WINSOME  APPARITION 188 

,    X.   A  NAVAL  ENGAGEMENT 220 

XI.   MRS.  VAREMBERG  is  RELEASED 241 

^  III.    "THE  PEOPLE'S  CANDIDATE"     ......  259 

II.    THE  ELECTION  OF  A  MAYOR 283 

(V.   THE  CONTESTED  ELECTION 295 

,  IV.   DAVID  LANE'S  ATTEMPT  AT  FREEDOM     .     .     .  312 

VI.   THE  POWERS  OF  THE  AIR 335 

\v 

II.   ASTRJSA  REDUX 367 

C' 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 
I. 

THE    GOLDEN   JUSTICE    IS    RAISED   ALOFT. 

THERE  were  many  theories  about  the  disastrous 
collision  at  the  Chippewa  Street  bridge;  but  not  a 
word  was  spoken  against  that  eminent  citizen,  David 
Lane. 

The  place  of  the  event  was  Keewaydin,  a  high 
northern  city,  on  the  shores  of  Lake  Michigan,  that 
superb  inland  sea,  which  stretches  a  long  arm  down- 
ward from  the  general  chain  of  the  American  Great 
Lakes.  Keewaydin — named  for  the  Northwest 
Wind  —  had  a  population  of  somewhat  more  than 
one  hundred  thousand  souls.  It  was  of  a  prosper- 
ous, comely  aspect,  and  solidly  built  of  an  indige- 
nous yellow  brick,  the  cool  warmth  of  which  seemed, 
somehow,  in  keeping  with  the  northerly  latitude. 
Through  its  midst  flowed  a  smooth,  canal-like  river, 
which,  with  tributaries,  and  basins  dredged  out  in 
certain  marshes,  afforded  some  twenty  miles  of  wharf- 
age for  shipping.  This  river  was  spanned,  at  the  foot 
of  nearly  every  other  street,  by  a  draw-bridge,  — 
now  opening  to  the  bustling  traffic  by  water,  now 
forming  again  a  junction  with  the  solid  land,  to  ao 


2O617G2 


2  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

commoclate  the  desultory  cavalcade  of  foot-passengers 
and  teams. 

The  large  propeller,  Pride  of  the  West,  had  struck 
one  of  these  bridges,  and  two  lives  had  been  lost. 

The  story  might  have  been  heard  exhaustively 
told  at  that  favorite  resort  of  vessel  men  and  marine 
gossips,  the  Johannisberger  House,  an  old,  high-por- 
ticoed  edifice  by  the  river-side,  which  had  once  been 
a  family  mansion  of  some  note. 

"  As  I  understand  it,"  said  an  engineer  of  the  Owl 
Line  steam-tugs,  summing  up  the  part  of  it  that  re- 
lated to  David  Lane,  —  "  as  I  understand  it,  David 
Lane,  he  was  on  the  bridge  at  the  time  "  — 

"  On  the  draw,"  growled  the  captain  of  a  tug  of 
the  rival  Diamond  Jim  Line. 

"  On  the  dra\v,  of  course.  Where  could  he  ha' 
been  ?  "  retorted  the  other,  as  though  only  a  person 
very  like  an  idiot  could  have  insisted  upon  so  fine  a 
distinction.  "  He  was  on  the  draw,  and  the  propeller 
was  a-comin'  through.  All  to  once,  he  see  Zelinsky, 
the  bridge-tender,  drop  in  a  kind  o'  fit.  Lane  rushes 
forrard,  to  lend  a  hand  ;  but  what  could  he  do  ?  It 
was  this  here  paytent  new-fangled  turnin'  apparay- 
tus"  — 

"They  never  had  n't  ought  to  be  used  on  the 
bridges,  nohow ;  or  else  they  'd  ought  to  have  more 
men  to  'em,"  interpolated  a  schooner's  captain. 

"  She  struck,  and  he  was  most  killed,  himself,  for 
his  trouble.  And  now  he's  lyin'  on  his  back  with 
half  his  bones  broken,  and  no  telliif  when  he  '11  be 
round  again,"  concluded  the  Owl  Line  engineer. 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  3 

"  He  's  a  man  that  ain't  never  been  afraid  to  lend 
a  hand  in  most  any  way,"  said  the  schooner's  captain, 
with  hearty  emphasis.  "  He  's  a  whole-souled  feller 
free  with  his  time  and  free  with  his  money, —  one 
of  the  kind  that  ought  to  have  money,  I  've  always 
said  ;  and  I  'm  glad  he 's  got  a  pile  of  it.  I  s'pose  he 
could  buy  and  sell  'most  any  one  else  in  Kee way- 
din." 

"  Pretty  free  with  his  temper,  too,  eh  ?  "  put  in  a 
skeptical  lake  steward,  temporarily  out  of  employ- 
ment. 

"  Well,  what  if  he  is  ?  What  does  it  amount  to  ? 
All  of  us  has  to  blow  off  a  little  steam  sometimes ;  I 
do  myself."  It  was  the  gruff  skipper  of  the  Diamond 
Jim  Line,  who  again  spoke. 

"  Nobody  gets  over  it  quicker  than  him,  and  no- 
body 's  quicker  to  make  it  up  to  a  man,  afterwards,  if 
he's  ben  wrong,"  said  the  schooner's  captain.  "I've 
worked  for  him,  gents,  and  I  claim  to  know.  Now, 
gents,  what  shall  it  be  ?  " 

And  the  talk  was  moistened  once  more,  after  the 
fashion  at  the  Johannisberger  House,  with  beverages 
served  by  the  hands  of  mine  host,  Christian  Idak, 
in  person. 

Such  was  the  account  that  obtained  final  accept- 
ance, and  such  was  the  excellent  repute  enjoyed  by 
David  Lane.  The  most  censorious,  seeking  for  flaws 
in  his  conduct,  could  find  nothing  to  urge  against 
him  save  a  trivial  over-hastiness  of  temper.  But  let 
us  look  a  little  into  the  real  circumstances  of  the 
case. 


4  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

David  Lane  strode  forth,  that  day,  from  the  office 
of  the  Northwestern  Navigation  Company,  in  a  tow- 
ering rage.  lie  may  have  hidden  it,  to  some  extent, 
in  the  office  of  the  company  itself,  but,  once  more  on 
West  Water  Street,  without,  he  gave  it  full  headway. 
He  arrived  at  the  Chippewa  Street  bridge,  by  which 
he  was  to  cross  to  his  own  side  of  the  town,  in  a 
mood  that  ill  beseemed  so.  respectable  a  gentleman. 
Nevertheless,  he  considered  himself  to  have  ample 
justification  for  it. 

He  had  just  heard,  from  the  mouth  of  the  plausi- 
ble Shadwell,  its  president,  the  final  refusal  of  the 
company  to  grant  him  such  terms  for  the  carrying  of 
material  from  his  iron  mills  as  would  have  enabled 
him  to  compete  with  Eastern  rivals  for  a  large  and 
desirable  building  contract.  Why  this  concession 
was  refused  need  not  here  be  entered  into.  Such 
favors  are  sometimes  done  one  another  by  the  pala- 
dins of  trade  and  finance  in  a  place  like  Keewaydin, 
and  then  again  are  denied ;  jealousies,  rivalries,  long- 
standing grudges,  waiting  an  opportunity  to  strike, 
are  all  to  be  considered.  If  any  one  had  been  wait- 
ing to  strike  at  David  Lane,  perhaps  this  was  rather 
a  favorable  time.  The  capitalist  was  staggering  un- 
der some  unusually  heavy  financial  burdens,  and 
could  ill  afford  any  diminution  of  either  profit  or 
prestige.  Wounded  pride,  self-interest,  and  local  pa- 
triotism —  for  he  would  have  been  glad,  in  the  ambi- 
tious Western  way,  that  the  town  should  have  had 
the  work,  even  apart  from  any  personal  advantage  of 
his  own  —  combined  to  make  up  his  present  state 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  5 

of  mind.  Added  to  the  rest,  he  was  suffering  of  late 
from  a  malarious  attack,  and  had  slept  but  little  for 
several  nights. 

He  set  foot  upon  the  draw  just  as  it  had  begun  to 
swing,  and  he  went  round  with  it,  its  only  passenger, 
on  its  brief  excursion.  Something  aroused  him  from 
the  bitter  preoccupation  in  which  he  was  at  first 
plunged,  and  he  became  somehow  aware  that  it  was 
a  craft  of  the  hostile  company  for  which  the  draw 
was  turning.  Hardly  had  the  reflection  passed 
through  his  mind,  when  the  bridge-tender  uttered  a 
painful,  choking  cry.  "  Help  !  "  he  called,  and  again 
"  Help ! "  and  fell  prone  beneath  his  capstan  bar. 
He  might  have  been  overcome  by  heart  disease  or 
apoplexy,  or  was,  perhaps,  only  drunk. 

The  first  thought  of  Lane  was  to  complete  the 
turning  of  the  bridge  ;  that  was  the  thing  of  pressing 
importance,  the  man  could  be  looked  to  afterwards. 
He  rushed  to  the  spot  and  laid  hold  upon  the  cap- 
stan. But  at  this  moment  he  was  seized  by  a  new 
impulse.^  so  wild  and  incredible  as  to  resemble  a 
prompting  of  madness,  —  a  veritable  frenzy,  which 
remained  ever  afterwards  as  much  a  mystery  to  him- 
self as  it  could  have  been  to  any  of  those  who  knew 
him. 

With  all  his  might  he  dragged  back  upon  the  lever, 
instead  of  expediting  its  movement,  and  thus  nar- 
rowed, instead  of  enlarging,  the  passage. 

The  Pride  of  the  West  was  returning  to  her  dock 
after  one  of  her  usual  voyages  on  the  lakes.  Bulky, 
massive,  standing  high  up  out  of  water,  she  forged 


6  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

ahead  with  all  the  momentum  of  her  ample  size. 
"\Vitli  a  carelessness  born  of  long  immunity,  she  had 
left  herself  just  margin  enough  to  pass  if  all  went 
well,  and  not  an  inch  more,  and  it  was  too  late  for  her 
to  stop. 

••  Take  that !  "  muttered  David  Lane,  through  his 
set  teeth,  as  if  addressing  an  actual  person,  and  not 
the  mere  inanimate  hulk  of  a  vessel. 

Crash  !  crash  ! 

Jets  of  escaping  steam,  whirling  wreaths  of  smoke, 
splinters,  dust,  and  over  all,  the  sickening  sound  of 
the  rending  and  crunching  of  human  handiwork 
never  meant  for  such  ruinous  ordeals. 

The  bridge  was  overthrown  from  its  basis  of  glib- 
moving  wheels,  and  tilted  upward  at  an  awkward 
angle.  From  beneath  two  of  its  heavy  fallen 
trusses  were  taken  out,  when  help  arrived,  Stanislaus 
Zelinsky.  the  bridge-tender,  dead,  and  David  Lane 
seriously  injured. 

Furthermore,  the  propeller  was  penetrated  by  a 
sharp  timber,  which,  held  like  a  lance  in  rest,  cruelly 
impaled  in  his  cabin  a  passenger,  who  had  gone  down 
to  throw  together  a  few  traps,  preparatory  to  step- 
ping ashore,  and  left  him  mangled  and  dead  against 
its  further  wall.  He  was  one  Christopher  Barclay, 
of  the  city  of  New  York,  who  had  come  out  to  look 
after  property  in  these  regions  purchased  many  years 
before. 

This  was  the  story  told  David  Lane  when  he  had 

recovered  consciousness  after  the  shock  of  his 

injuries.     lie   had   even    known  the  passenger,  this 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  1 

Christopher  Barclay,  — tnown,  at  least,  of  his  stand- 
ing and  consideration  in  the  world.  He  knew  that 
this  victim  was  cut  off,  in  the  prime  of  life,  from  a 
career  of  usefulness  and  honor,  and  had  left  behind 
him  a  family,  dependent  upon  him,  if  not  for  support, 
at  least  for  the  proper  direction  of  their  careers. 

"  Merciful  Father  in  heaven  !  "  he  breathed,  in  an 
agony  of  mind  yet  sharper  than  his  physical  pains, 
"have  I  done  this?  Oh,  no,  I  will  not  believe  it ! 
Have  I,  henceforth,  the  guilt  of  the  blood  of  two  of 
my  fellow-creatures  upon  my  soul  ?  It  cannot  be  ;  I 
will  not  have  it  so.  It  is  a  greater  punishmeut  than 
I  can  bear." 

His  purpose  flew  straight  towards  confession. 

"  It  was  I,"  he  began.     "  It  was  I.     I  turned  "  — 

The  attendants  thought  he  raved,  distracted  by  his 
hurts. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  they  said,  soothingly,  "  it  was  all  seen 
from  the  vessel's  deck."  (But  as  a  matter  of  fact 
it  had  not  been  accurately  seen  from  anywhere.) 
"  You  were  not  to  blame  ;  you  did  all  you  could. 
The  surgeons  think  you  had  better  not  talk  now. 
You  must  try  to  compose  yourself,  and  lie  as  quiet  as 
you  can." 

This  repression  but  hastened  the  fever  it  was  in- 
tended to  avert ;  the  patient  fell  off  into  a  raging 
delirium,  and  hovered  between  life  and  death  for 
three  months.  In  this  state  he  seemed  to  himself  to 
declare  his  crime,  and  to  suffer  almost  every  con- 
ceivable form  of  expiation  for  it. 

When    he  became  rational  again,  the  thought  of 


8  '/•///:   dOLDEN  JUST  1C K. 

confession  resumed  its  sway.  As  he  lay  convales- 
rin<f  lie  even  meditated  the  form  of  words  which  his 

0 

avowal  ought  to  take.  But  by  this  date  the  disaster 
at  the  Chippewa  Street  bridge  was  long  of  the  past ; 
so  many  other  things  had  happened  in  the  mean  time 
that  it  would  have  required  a  certain  effort  of  the 
public  imagination  to  go  back  to  it. 

There,  too,  by  his  bedside,  stood  his  cherished  wife, 
his  beloved  daughter.  Must  he  bring  disgrace  upon 
them  ?  Must  he  tell  them  the  kind  of  husband  and 
father  he  had  been  to  them  ?  Was  it  required  of 
him,  now  that  the  harm  was  irreparable,  and  disclos- 
ure could  be  of  no  avail  to  the  dead  ? 

It  was  this  daughter,  Florence  Lane,  who  proved 
the  strongest  of  all  his  deterring  motives.  She  was. 
the  dearest  being  in  the  world  to  him.  She  was  tall, 
slender,  and  willowy,  almost  a  woman  now,  and  she 
promised  to  be  a  beautiful,  as  well  as  a  good  and 
clever  one.  She  should  have  a  very  happy  and  brill- 
iant future  before  her.  Was  he  to  mar  it  by  his  in- 
famy ?  Oh,  no,  he  could  not  do  it. 

Hers  was  the  first  face  upon  which  his  eyes  rested 
when  they  recovered  their  calmer  vision.  She  bent 
down  and  kissed  him,  with  a  tender  solicitude,  lest 
even  this  unwonted  excitement  might  be  to  his  detri- 
ment. 

"It  is  delightful  to  see  you  almost  well  again, 
dear  papa,"  she  said,  in  the  most  tuneful  of  young 
voices,  marked  by  inflections  of  fondness. 

They  had  always  been  the  best  of  friends.  The 
daughter  had  brought  to  her  father  all  her  troubles, 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  9 

all  her  childish  and  girlish  interests.  Nothing  could 
have  been  warmer,  more  complete,  and  pleasanter  to 
see  than  the  devotion  subsisting  between  the  two. 

"  Why  are  you  here  ? "  demanded  the  invalid, 
feebly. 

"  I  came  home  to  be  with  you.  I  could  not  bear 
to  be  far  away  when  you  were  so  ill.  I  am  studying 
again  with  Mrs.  Miltimore,"  she  replied. 

The  time  passed  ;  David  Lane  at  first  vacillated, 
then  postponed  his  avowal,  then  wholly  abandoned 
it,  and  adopted  a  settled  policy  of  concealment.  He 
set  out,  and  traveled  far  and  wide,  for  the  restoration 
of  his  impaired  health  and  vigor.  When  he  came 
back,  he  was  graver,  gentler,  quieter,  than  ever  be- 
fore. This  change  in  character  was  laid  to  the  acci- 
dent, from  the  effects  of  which,  it  was  supposed,  he 
had  never  fully  recovered. 

Among  the  first  duties  which  he  took  upon  himself 
was  that  of  the  support  of  the  family  of  the  deceased 
bridge-tender.  He  tried  to  persuade  himself  that 
this  death,  at  least,  did  not  lie  at  his  door,  but  that 
the  man  had,  even  before  the  collision,  succumbed  to 
some  fatal  malady.  Nevertheless,  the  doubt  always 
existed,  and  it  was  upon  this  doubt  that  he  acted. 
His  proceeding  was  looked  upon  as  a  pure  piece  of 
benevolence,  and  called  for  the  more  praise,  since  a 
prejudice  had  arisen  against  Zelinsky,  as  having  been 
intoxicated  and  responsible  for  the  disaster,  and 
others  might  not  have  been  so  willing  to  extend  help. 
The  family  consisted  of  but  two  members,  a  wife  and 
infant  daughter.  The  wife  did  not  long  survive. 


10  TV//:    GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

The  Polish  child,  prettily  named  "  Stanislava,"  after 
the  "  Stanislaus "  of  her  father,  was  then  taken 
charge  of  by  some  humble  German  relatives,  with 
whom  she  lived,  supported  by  a  modest  allowance 
from  David  Lane. 

He  next  found  means  to  more  than  make  up  both 
to  the  city  and  the  Northwestern  Navigation  Com- 
pany the  damage  they  had  sustained  at  his  hands. 
He  took  surreptitious  steps  also  to  advance  the  inter- 
ests of  the  heirs  of  Christopher  Barclay's  estate.  By 
docking  and  dredging  in  its  vicinity,  in  Che  Menomee 
Marsh,  he  gave  a  particular  value,  for  instance,  to  a 
waste  bit  of  ground,  which  came  to  be  known  as  Bar- 
clay's Island,  and  to  be  the  site  of  several  flourish- 
ing industries.  He  founded,  at  about  this  date,  the 
Lane  Public  Library,  the  Lane  system  of  Industrial 
Schools,  and  the  Lane  Free  Hospital,  and  gave  as 
well  to  every  private  charity  that  made  demands  upon 
his  purse. 

He  had  been  well  liked  before,  and  he  now  became 
an  object  of  enthusiastic  public  favor.  He  was  made 
mayor,  and  then,  for  several  terms,  governor  of  the 
State.  He  accepted  these  offices,  proposing  to  make 
of  them,  by  an  assiduous  devotion  to  the  public  good 
such  as  is  rarely  seen,  a  certain  atonement. 

In  the  midst  of  all  this  he  was  pursued  by  the  in- 
satiate terrors  of  remorse.  He  flouted,  at  times,  in 
bitter  scorn,  all  his  own  devices. 

"  So,  too,  the  robber  barons  of  the  Middle  Ages," 
he  would  say,  "  endeavored  to  buy  immunity  for  their 
crimes  by  indulgence  in  petty  charities." 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  11 

It  was  a  harrowing  thought  to  him  that  the  very 
measures  intended  for  reparation  but  added  to  his 
own  prosperity.  Never  had  he  been  so  flourishing 
in  all  his  affairs,  never  so  prominent  in  the  world. 
What  a  whited  sepulchre,  what  a  wolf  in  sheep's 
clothing,  he  called  himself.  He  to  live  esteemed  and 
admired  of  his  fellow-men  when  he  should  have  had 
only  chastisement  and  contempt.  He  turned  back 
again  to  religion,  of  the  formal  sort,  which,  after  a 
fashion  not  uncommon  with  men  of  bustling  and 
active  affairs,  he  had  long  neglected.  He  had  the 
Rev.  Edward  Brockston,  of  St.  Jude's,  a  clergyman 
of  a  serious  and  ascetic  vein,  one  who  preached  eccle- 
siastical celibacy  and  the  like,  to  dine  with  him,  made 
him  the  almoner  of  many  private  bounties,  and  gave 
him  a  new  tower  for  his  church.  He  thought  of  lay- 
ing the  whole  case  before  this  good  man,  and  offering 
to  abide  by  his  counsel ;  but,  at  the  last  resort,  he 
could  not  bring  himself  to  it.  The  very  height  to 
which  he  had  risen  in  the  mean  time  was  an  added 
obstacle ;  it  but  made  the  distance  which  he  had  to 
fall  the  greater. 

Still  he  felt  always  upon  him  a  resistless  pressure 
towards  confession  ;  the  mystery  of  the  destruction 
of  two  innocent  human  lives  seemed  to  imperiously 
demand  accounting  for.  He  was  under  something 
like  that  powerful  urgency  from  which  the  saying 
has  arisen  that  "  murder  will  out."  He  even  medi- 
tated the  woful  resource  of  suicide,  and  contemplated 
with  a  certain  deliberation  all  of  its  forms. 

At  last,  however,  David  Lane  found  a  method  of 


12  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

relief,  of  a  bizarre  sort,  which  perhaps  none  but  he, 
and  he  only  in  the  most  morbidly  eccentric  of  his 
moods,  would  ever  have  hit  upon. 

At  about  this  time  Keewaydin  was  to  place  a  figure 
of  Justice  on  the  dome  of  its  city  hall,  a  mammoth, 
expensive  edifice,  which  had  dragged  its  slow  length 
along  for  many  years,  and  was  now  at  last  com- 
pleted. The  statue  was  to  be  its  final  touch  of  orna- 
ment. It  was  of  plates  of  beaten  zinc,  handsomely 
gilded,  well  stayed  from  within,  and  was,  like  the 
famed  Athena  Parthenos,  about  "  six  times  the  height 
of  a  man." 

It  was  the  proposition  of  some  ingenious  spirit  in 
the  board  of  aldermen  that  the  figure  should  be  made 
a  place  used  for  the  deposit  of  papers,  like  a  corner- 
stone. The  idea  was  said  to  be  borrowed  from  the 
steeple  of  the  most  exemplary  meeting-house  in  town, 
the  gilt  ball  of  which  —  so  the  rumor  ran  —  con- 
tained whiskey  and  playing-cards,  deposited  there  by 
graceless  wags  at  the  time  of  its  construction.  How- 
ever this  may  have  been,  the  plan  was  now  utilized 
most  unobjectionably.  David  Lane,  a  distinguished 
townsman,  who  had  had  to  do  with  the  erection  of 
the  building,  and  was  at  the  time  governor  of  the 
State,  was  asked  to  honor  the  occasion  and  deliver 
the  dedicatory  address,  and  he  consented  to  do  so. 

The  civic  pile,  become  that  day  the  centre  of  public 
interest,  stood  in  a  little  green  park,  near  the  business 
centre  of  the  place,  but  removed  from  its  bustle. 
The  square  was  flanked  on  three  sides  by  private 
dwellings,  standing  comfortably  back  in  their  own 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  13 

door-yards,  aud  on  the  fourth  by  a  cathedral  with 
schools,  having  a  tall  clock-tower,  from  which  the 
hours  were  pleasantly  chimed.  The  new  city  hall 
was  of  an  imposing  Renaissance  design,  built  in  the 
main  of  good  red  sandstone  from  the  Lake  Superior 
quarries,  but  this  supplemented,  in  the  great  porticoes 
and  elsewhere,  after  a  cheap  American  way,  with 
iron  work,  to  which  painting  and  sanding  gave  'only 
a  far-off  imitation  of  the  more  solid  material.  It 
would  never  make  even  a  passable  ruin  —  supposing 
its  architect,  like  Martiuus  Scriblerus,  to  have  de- 
signed his  building,  not  for  present  use,  but  its  aspect 
in  decay.  Only  that  which  has  been  fairly  substan- 
tial and  honest  in  life  can  be  impressive  in  death. 

Before  it,  at  full  length,  on  the  grass,  lay  the  Golden 
Justice.  Trammeled  up  in  her  hoisting  tackle,  and 
surrounded  by  the  crowds  of  spectators,  she  seemed 
like  captive  Gulliver  in  Lilliput,  or  the  great  statue 
of  Diana  '•'  which  fell  down  from  Jupiter,"  at  Ephe- 
sus.  or  some  palladium  of  the  liberties  of  Keewaydin 
temporarily  overthrown.  She  was  of  a  fair,  serene, 
and  noble  aspect,  and  well  worthy  of  her  destination. 
Her  eyes  were  not  blindfolded,  in  the  usual  way  ;  the 
brows  were  deeply  shaded  by  a  martial  helmet,  rest- 
ing upon  the  loosely-bound  tresses  that  rippled  away 
on  either  side  ;  on  her  thigh  was  a  long,  straight- 
hilted  sword,  and  in  her  hand,  gathered  up  with  the 
drapery,  the  conventional  scales.  There  was  some- 
thing else  about  the  golden  goddess,  something  that, 
had  he  noted  it,  might  perhaps  have  stayed  the  cu- 
rious project  of  David  Lane,  even  in  the  moment  of 


14  THE   GUl.UEX  JUSTICE. 

its  execution,  but  lie  was  too  full  of  his  own  agitated 
thoughts,  and  it  escaped  him. 

In  his  address  to-day  he  surpassed  himself.  He 
spoke  with  a  genuine  eloquence  that  was  a  surprise 
to  all  who  knew  him.  His  words  were  of  a  moving 
force,  his  views  of  the  austerest  purity.  He  had  the 
look  of  some  stoic  sage  of  the  antique  mould. 

"  Fiat  justitia,  ruat  coelum  !  "  he  thundered ;  and 
then,  again,  for  the  benefit  of  the  vulgar,  "  Let  jus- 
tice be  done,  though  the  heavens  fall ! " 

With  this  his  oration  was  over,  and  the  moment 
had  come  to  deposit  the  papers.  He  dropped  into 
the  receptacle  prepared  for  them  the  various  public 
documents.  Then,  with  cruelly  shaking  hand  and 
a  heart  that  beat  so  loudly  it  seemed  a  wonder  the 
bystanders  did  not  hear  it,  he  dropped  in  a  paper 
strangely  different,  indeed,  from  all  the  rest. 

It  was  a  written  confession,  in  full,  of  his  crime. 

"  If  it  be  required,  by  the  eternal  fitness  of  things, 
that  this  be  known,"  he  breathed  forth  above  it,  "  let 
the  paper  come  down.  If  it  do  not  come  down,  by 
that  testimony  I  shall  know  that  I  am  absolved  at 
least  before  men,  and  my  punishment  awaits  me 
hereafter.  I  commit  myself  to  the  hands  of  eternal 
justice  ;  to  her  I  leave  my  fate." 

The  baud  struck  up,  shrill  cheers  rent  the  air,  and 
salutes  of  guns  were  fired.  The  great  statue  was 
hoisted  to  her  feet,  tottered  a  little  in  the  air,  — 
in  which  attitude  she  might  be  thought  to  have  a  cer- 
tain recognition  of  the  responsibility  of  her  situation, 
—  slid  along  ways  prepared  for  her  on  the  roofs,  and 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  15 

was  set  securely  in  her  place  on  the  high  central 
dome. 

And  there,  aloft,  a  shining  mark  from  far  and 
near  before  the  eyes  of  all  men,  stood  henceforth  the 
Golden  Justice,  with  the  secret  of  David  Lane  in  its 
keeping. 

This  was  in  his  first  term  as  governor.  In  his  last 
term  —  having  enjoyed  the  intimacy  of  the  Presi- 
dent, and  being  of  the  stuff  of  which  such  dignita- 
ries are  made  —  he  was  sent  as  minister  to  one  of  the 
most  important  European  courts.  His  wife  died,  and 
a  sister  of  his  own  took  charge  of  his  household. 
His  daughter,  Florence  Lane,  arrived  at  woman's  es- 
tate, and  made  a  brilliant  foreign  marriage,  much 
talked  of  in  its  time.  He  prolonged  his  stay  abroad 
many  years.  At  intervals  he  almost  forgot  all  that 
was  behind  him,  but  there,  far  back  across  the  sea,  in 
the  place  of  his  abode,  was  the  Golden  Justice,  and 
his  secret,  always  awaiting  him. 


n. 

A   MAN   OF   THE    WORLD. 

OXE  day,  some  ten  years  after  the  raising  aloft  of 
the  Golden  Justice,  the  Chippewa  Street  draw  was 
again  on  the  swing. 

The  bridge-tender  at  present  in  charge  was  a  short, 
stout  man,  with  a  florid  complexion,  little,  round,  pro- 
truding gray  eyes,  and  big,  coarse  fists.  He  evi- 
dently had  a  very  good  idea  of  his  own  importance. 
Ludwig  Trapschuh  laid  claim,  in  fact,  to  an  exhaus- 
tive acquaintance  with  all  people  and  things  in  the 
vicinity  of  his  bridge.  Not  exactly  of  the  solid  land, 
nor  yet  altogether  of  the  water,  but  belonging  in  part 
to  both,  he  prided  himself  on  a  sort  of  amphibious 
character  and  a  sovereignty  over  the  double  domain. 
Added  to  this,  he  had  outside  irons  in  the  fire,  small 
ventures,  generally  unsuccessful,  which  kept  him  in 
straits  for  money,  but  the  failure  of  one  never  abated 
his  willingness  to  engage  in  others  of  the  same  sort. 

He  had  just  slipped  an  arm  into  one  sleeve  of  his 
coat,  and  was  about  to  go  off  his  post  on  some  private 
affairs  of  his  own.  He  was  leaving  his  final  instruc- 
tions with  a  new  assistant,  from  the  Milesian  Third 
Ward,  and  he  intermingled  with  these  a  quantity  of 
gossip.  The  assistant,  with  an  impressed  air,  yielded 
an  ample  deference  to  all  that  he  said. 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  17 

"  You  must  not  let  more  as  fifteen  catties  go  over 
at  once,"  said  Ludwig  Trapschub  ;  "  and  you  must 
not  let  dem  teams  crowd  ahead  mit  demselves  too 
much,  one  by  de  oder.  De  draw  cannot  be  open 
more  as  ten  minyutes.  Den  must  you  show  de  red 
signal, — or,  if  it  was  night,  de  red  lantern,  —  and 
no  more  vessels  can  pass.  You  und'stand  ?  " 

"  I  belayve  you,  I  do." 

"  Sometimes  she  go  round  yust  so  easy  as  noding 
at  all ;  and  sometimes  she  jump  like  she  was  crazy," 
pursued  Ludwig  Trapschuh,  explaining  with  a  gusto 
the  traits  of  his  bridge.  "  You  look  out  for  her." 

"  Niver  fear  !  " 

"  Well,  now,  I  got  to  go  and  see  me  a  couple  o' 
dem  South  Side  aldermens.  Dem  aldermens  do  yust 
what  I  tell  'em,  every  time,  so  quick  like  rollin'  round 
a  log." 

"  It 's  a  grand  political  in/?z<ence  you  have,  en- 
tirely." 

"  Well,"  responded  the  other  complacently,  "  I 
guess  I  was  a  pretty  smart  feller  for  my  age.  I  live 
'moug  dem  Polanders,  and  got  plenty  influenz  mit 
dem,  anyhow.  If  some  managers  wants  dem,  dey 
know  dey  got  to  get  me,  first,  eh  ?  I  bet  you  no  one 
understand  dem  Polanders  better  as  what  I  do." 

"  The  Polacks  is  different  to  the  regular  Dutch,  I 
belayve  ?  "  said  the  assistant  with  an  air  of  ethno- 
logic speculation. 

"  They  bin  worse  as  Mecklenbergers ;  they  bin  not 
good  for  much  except  saw  wood  and  work  by  rail- 
roads. I  am  a  Pomeranian,  but  my  sister,  she  got 


18  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

married  with  a  Polander  Zelinsky.  If  he  was  a  smart 
man,  he  don't  get  killed  on  this  bridge,  so  mauy  years 
ago." 

"  Well,  now  !  well  now  ! " 

"  They  build  their  houses  round  by  me,  and  when 
my  brother-of-law  die  I  bring  my  niece-of-law,  Stan- 
i.-luva  Zelinsky,  to  live  by  me,  and  we  get  kind  o' 
used  to  'em  and  stay  mit  'em,"  said  Trapschuh,  desir- 
ous to  explain  how  it  was  he  came  to  abide  in  the 
large  Polish  settlement  on  the  South  Side. 

There  now  came  by,  driving  a  shabby  express- 
wagon,  one  of  those  rowdy  young  fellows,  a  type  of 
a  certain  kind  of  foreigners  of  the  second  generation, 
who  have  acquired  all  the  American  vices,  —  with 
none  of  the  virtues,  —  adding  them  to  the  ample 
stock  already  possessed  of  their  own.  He  spoke 
English  perfectly  well,  or  perfectly  ill,  in  the  way  of 
its  commonest  slang.  This  was  one  "  Barney  "  Trap- 
schuh, hopeful  son  of  the  bridge-tender. 

"  The  South  Side  Belle  's  comin'  down  the  river," 
said  this  person,  pointing  a  coarse  thumb  back  over 
his  shoulder. 

"  Where  you  seen  her  ?  " 

"  Oh,  up  there  along  the  docks." 

With  this  he  drove  on.  His  father  presently 
turned  his  attention  to  a  rusty-looking,  small  sloop 
that  made  her  appearance  at  the  draw. 

"  Bah,  the  South  Side  Belle  !  "  he  exclaimed  with 
contempt.  "  Billy  Alfsen  's  goin'  across  the  lake  af- 
ter another' load  o'  them  peaches. — I  wish  he  sink 
himself  to  the  bottom  in  his  leaky  old  tub." 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  19 

A  well-built  young  man,  the  William  Alfsen  re- 
ferred to,  stood  on  the  deck  of  the  sloop  with  a  defi- 
ant air,  as  if  conscious  of  the  unfriendly  scrutiny  to 
which  he  was  subjected.  The  whole  remaining  crew 
consisted  of  a  single  tow-headed  boy  of  fifteen. 

"  That  last  load  of  peaches  what  he  bring  was  all 
spoiled  ;  the  fruit  inspector  throw  'em  out,"  grumbled 
Trapschuh.  "  He  make  nothing  since  he  give  up  his 
place  in  the  Stamp- Ware  Works,  —  and  he  got  to 
take  care  of  his  old  father,  besides.  He  own  not 
even  that  old  sloop ;  some  ones  hold  mortgage  on  it." 

"  Is  that  so  ?  " 

"  He  's  no  good.  What  he  mean  by  South  Side's 
Belle,  any  way  ?  He  mean  my  niece-of-law,  Stanis- 
lava.  He  hang  around  that  girl  all  time  he  can,  but 
I  don't  let  it,  —  see  ?  " 

"  I  do,"  answered  the  listener,  with  his  continued 
air  of  admiration,  though  he  had  heard  the  same  story 
before,  and  even  more  than  once,  in  his  short  term  of 
service. 

"  She  got  no  hurry  to  bin  married,  but  she  must 
get  married  with  some  feller  with  a  few  dollars  in  his 
pocket,  —  see  ?  " 

He  would  now  at  last  have  taken  his  departure, 
but  the  Pride  of  the  West  was  seen  once  more  com- 
ing up  the  stream.  He  professed  a  peculiar  nervous- 
ness about  this  boat —  to  which  he  owed  his  situation, 
for  David  Lane  had  got  it  for  him  on  account  of  his 
relationship  to  the  slain  Zelinsky,  —  and  he  stayed  to 
see  her  through,  himself.  The  bridges  below  were 
seen  opening  and  closing  for, her,  like  parts  of  some 


20  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

single. glib-working  machine.  She  signaled  twice,  by 
the  customary  whistle.  As  she  drew  near,  Trapschuh, 
out  of  his  large  acquaintance,  identified  a  little  knot 
of  persons  standing  on  her  forward  deck,  by  the  rail. 

"  That 's  Jim  DeBow,"  said  he,  —  "  he 's  a  big  fel- 
ler on  'Change.  And  that 's  Mrs.  DeBow  ;  and  that 
stylish  young  lady  is  his  daughter,  Miss  DeBow.  I 
see  it  in  the  papers  that  they  bin  in  Chicago.  But 
that  young  feller,  with  them  good  clothes  and  such  a 
fine  kind  o'  look,  —  I  don't  know  him  ;  I  guess  he 
bin  a  stranger  round  here." 

Then  a  bit  of  vivid  excitement  occurred  that  took 
away  opportunity  for  further  gossip.  When  this  was 
over,  he  looked  around  reproachfully,  as  if  the  effort 
had  been  made  by  some  one  to  remove  him,  Trap- 
schuh, from  his  post  of  duty  at  a  peculiarly  critical 
moment,  and  he  knew  not  what  would  have  happened 
if  he  had  gone.  Making  a  general  rule  of  two  oc- 
currences, separated  by  at  least  fifteen  years,  he  ex- 
claimed, — 

"  That  boat  is  always  doin'  something  at  this 
bridge." 

The  group  at  the  rail,  so  far  as  identified,  had  been 
correctly  described.  It  was  the  DeBow  family,  and, 
with  them,  a  new  acquaintance,  one  they  had  made  on 
the  voyage  itself,  returning  from  Chicago. 

This  stranger  was  a  man  of  somewhat  more  than 
thirty,  but  appearing  younger.  He  was  considerably 
above  the  middle  height,  of  robust  frame,  closely  but- 
toned into  a  well-fitting  suit  of  Scotch  tweeds,  and  he 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  21 

stood  squarely  on  his  feet,  looking  with  interest  at  all 
about  him.  His  skin,  browned  by  healthy  exposure, 
contributed  with  other  details  to  give  him  a  foreign 
and  traveled  air.  His  expression  conveyed  a  latent 
geniality,  combined  with  dignity,  experience  of  the 
world,  and  a  certain  importance  in  it,  while  his  slight- 
ly reserved  bearing  was  free  from  any  shade  of  pre- 
tense. He  was  called,  his  companions  had  learned, 
Paul  Barclay. 

He  had  conversed  chiefly  with  Miss  Justine  De- 
Bow.  He  had  been  tacitly  left  to  her  by  the  elders, 
who,  following  a  provincial  tradition,  felt  that  the 
young,  as  a  matter  of  course,  belonged  to  each  other, 
and  could  not  be  expected  to  interest  themselves  out- 
side their  own  ranks.  The  girl  was  young  and  pret- 
ty, and  not  far  past  her  school-days.  She  had  a  very 
symmetrical  little  figure,  an  almost  purely  classic 
profile,  and  a  proudly  curling  upper  lip.  She  was  un- 
usually petite,  to  atone  for  which  she  seemed  to  af- 
fect a  certain  stateliness  of  manner,  which  was  at 
times  of  an  amusing  incongruity.  She  had  a  formal, 
precise -way  of  speaking,  taking  care  to  use  the  Boston, 
or  English,  broad  a.  She  had  not  been  brought  up  to 
this,  but  had  acquired  it  at  the  Keewaydin  Female 
College,  of  which  institution  she  had  been  valedicto- 
rian, as  she  let  fall,  and  where  she  had  been  known 
as  a  smart,  ambitious,  spirited  little  person. 

This  Paul  Barclay  had  impressed  her  from  the  first 
as  some  one  very  different  from  the  ordinary  run  of 
new-comers  to  Keewaydin.  He  had  let  fall  chance 
expressions  which  opened  to  her  vistas  into  an  ample 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

fxperience.  She  said  to  herself  that  he  was  the 
near^t  realization  she  had  yet  seen  of  "  a  man  of  the 
world ; "  and  a  man  of  the  world  was  at  present  Miss 
Justine  DeBow's  ideal  of  all  that  was  superlatively 
admirable.  She  had  tired  already,  as  is  not  so  uncom- 
mon at  a  certain  date  with  maidens  of  her  years,  of 
the  callow  youth  of  her  acquaintance ;  she  sighed  for 
one  who  had  seen  all,  could  do  all,  and  might  take  her 
away  to  form  part  of  a  more  complete  and  splendid 
society  than  any  she  had  ever  known. 

He  had  spoken  admiringly  of  the  view  of  the  town 
from  the  water,  as  they  came  into  the  harbor,  and  of 
the  two  long  breakwater  piers  with  their  light-houses. 
With  the  common  enough  ignorance  of  one  to  the 
manner  born,  she  knew  even  less  of  many  things 
about  her  home  than  he.  It  was  he  who  had  hud  to 
tell  her  that  the  Great  Lakes  were  "  a  step-mother  to 
ships,"  offering  no  natural  refuge  in  all  their  thou- 
sands of  miles  of  coast,  and  that  the  harbors  were 
formed  by  utilizing  the  mouths  of  the  small  rivers 
that  make  into  them.  He  asked  her  to  point  out  to 
him  Barclay's  Island,  and  gazed  at  certain  factory 
buildings  upon  it,  clustered  around  a  mammoth  brick 
chimney,  with  a  good  deal  of  attention. 

••Have  you  relatives  here?"  inquired  his  comely 
young  cicerone,  attracted  by  the  coincidence  of  names. 

"  Yes,  the  Thornbrooks." 

The  Thornbrooks  were  an  excellent  old  couple,  liv- 
ing in  a  large  square  house  near  the  centre  of  the 
town,  who  —  their  children  now  all  married  off  — 
were  passing  their  declining  years  in  placid  comfort. 


TEE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  23 

This  led  up  to  nothing  in  particular,  though  even 
this,  had  her  memory  gone  somewhat  further  back, 
or  had  she  applied  to  her  father  for  information, 
might  have  given  her  certain  interesting  clews. 

DeBow  himself  occasionally  took  some  share  in 
the  talk.  No  derogation  was  meant  in  calling  him 
"  Jim  "  DeBow.  The  name  was  used  alike  by  those 
who  knew  and  those  who  did  not  know  him,  and  was 
a  complimentary  adoption  of  him  by  the  general  pub- 
lic, such  as  often  happens  to  local  magnates  of  his 
sort.  Though  so  "  big  a  fellow  on  'Change,"  after 
the  description  of  Trapschuh,  he  was  small  of  stat- 
ure, —  in  this  respect  his  daughter  took  after  him. 
He  showed  a  jovial  tendency,  and  had  a  large,  ex- 
pansive way  of  talking,  of  the  kind  often  thought 
peculiarly  "  Western."  His  rhetoric  had  wings,  and 
he  followed  it  as  far  as  possible  by  rising  on  his  toes. 
He  spoke  of  the  commerce  of  Keewaydin,  and  claimed 
that  more  actual  tonnage  came  to  the  port  than  to 
Boston,  Baltimore,  or  Philadelphia. 

"  We  are  the  American  Odessa,"  he  went  on. 
"  Wheat  is  our  great  staple ;  we  beat  the  world  on 
wheat.  This  wonderful  great  northwestern  country 
stretching  back  of  us  gives  a  hard,  firm  grade  of 
cereal  that  makes  men  of  brain  and  men  of  muscle." 

"  And  you  naturally  eat  a  good  deal  of  it,  at 
home?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  ha,  ha,  —  very  good !  We  eat  it,  at 
home,  —  lots  of  it ;  you  'd  better  believe  we  eat  it." 

"  Is  it  your  first  visit  to  our  section  ? "  he  asked 
presently. 


'_'  1  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

"My  first  visit." 

"  I  shall  take  great  pleasure  in  showing  you  'round 
on  'Change,  or  anywhere  else,  if  you  will  give  me  a 
call." 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  accept  your  polite  offer,  should 
iny  engagements  permit." 

As  to  Mrs.  DeBow,  a  faded-looking  lady,  she  ap- 
peared to  be  one  of  those  American  mothers,  of  a  cer- 
tain class,  who  are  left  behind  by  the  too  rapid  move- 
ment of  the  world,  and  can  make  no  effort  to  keep  up 
with  the  development  of  new  and  brilliant  ideas  on 
the  part  of  their  juniors.  She  seemed  to  efface  her- 
self with  an  even  more  than  common  humility,  but 
Barclay  took  care  to  address  her  some  trifling  atten- 
tions, from  which  a  student  of  character  would  at 
once  have  inferred  in  him  a  natural  kindness  of 
heart,  together  with  the  habit  of  prompt  and  com- 
prehensive courtesy.  The  good  lady  replied  to  him, 
"  Yes,  sir,"  and  "  No,  sir,"  in  a  sort  of  fluttered  def- 
erence. 

"  Mamma  is  a  great  invalid,"  said  Justine,  manag- 
ing to  draw  him  away  from  her  at  the  earliest  mo- 
ment. There  were  things  in  both  her  parents  she 
did  not  approve  of.  She  might  have  explained,  had 
she  been  willing  to,  that  she  was  driven  to  her  own 
hauteur  of  manner  as  a  reaction  and  protest. 

The  coffee-colored  river  was  full  of  animation,  at 
this  favorable  season  for  traffic,  the  last  months  be- 
fore the  annual  close  of  navigation.  All  the  marine 
flock  that  roamed  the  wide  water  pastures  were  com- 
ing and  going  on  the  peaceful  river  lane. 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  25 

The  huge  steamer  for  the  extreme  end  of  Superior 
cut  across  the  bows  of  that  for  Mackinaw  and  the 
lakes  eastward.  The  Owl  vied  in  speed  with  the 
Diamond  Jim,  and  the  Little  Moses  with  the  Ajax 
and  the  Excalibur.  A  wrecking-tug  was  going  out 
to  look  after  a  bark  ashore  at  Whitefish  Bay ;  a  steam- 
barge,  laden  with  flour,  tangled  itself  up  with  the 
steam-dredge  Vulcan,  poking  along  the  channel  in  its 
customary  morose-looking  way.  Their  agile  turnings 
whirled  the  water  into  seething  eddies.  Schooners, 
sloops,  barks,  and  brigantines  lay  alongside  the  great 
wheat  elevators,  and  these  structures,  bulky  and  im- 
posing as  basilicas  of  some  Titantic  race,  poured  into 
their  holds,  through  wooden  troughs,  streams  of  grain 
as  golden  as  the  sands  of  the  Pactolus.  "Warehouses 
of  yellow  brick,  reflected  in  its  depths,  rose  along  the 
margins  of  the  river.  The  merchant  on  the  water 
streets  had  his  ship  at  his  rear  door  like  his  drays 
at  the  front.  The  mellow  haze  of  autumn,  boldly 
broken  now  and  then  by  a  black  hull,  a  red  smoke- 
stack, a  bright  pennant,  and  the  clustering  spars, 
brooded  over  the  whole,  which,  though  so  American 
in  kind,  had  almost  the  picturesque  interest  of  a 
canal  of  Rotterdam. 

The  revenue  cutter  appointed  to  look  after  the  gov- 
ernment's interests  in  these  waters  passed  our  travel- 
ers, going  the  same  way.  The  officer  in  command  of 
her  glanced  up,  when  alongside,  and  sought,  with  evi- 
dent anxiety,  the  recognition  of  Miss  DeBow. 

That  young  lady  murmured  to  herself  presently, 
"  The  Florence  Lane." 


•_M;  rut:  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

Her  companion,  whose  attention  had  been  for  the 
moment  elsewhere,  turned,  and  repeated,  with  a  sharp 
tone  of  inquiry,  "  Florence  Lane  ?  Florence  Lane?" 

She  had  simply  been  reading  the  name,  as  he  could 
now  do  for  himself,  on  the  stern-post  of  the  receding 
cutter. 

"  Oh,  I  knew  a  person  of  that  name  once,"  he 
thought  good  to  state,  in  explanation.  "  I  recollect 
that  she  was  from  this  place.  It  is  natural  enough 
that  it  should  be  preserved  here,  where  she  was  born 
and  brought  up.  The  family  was  a  very  prominent 
one,  I  believe." 

"  Oh,  you  knew  Mrs.  Varemberg  —  Florence  Lane 
that  was?"  asked  his  companion,  hailing  with  pleas- 
ure this  fresh  note  in  a  conversation  that  was  begin- 
ning to  flag.  "  Abroad,  I  suppose  ?" 

'•  Yes,  I  met  them  abroad.'.' 

"  Yes,  indeed,  hers  has  always  been  a  prominent 
family  here.  The  boat  was  called  after  her  by  some 
friend  of  her  father's  while  he  was  governor.  Ah, 
she  was  a  remarkable  woman,"  with  envious  admira- 
tion ;  "  accomplished,  beautiful,  one  of  the  greatest 
of  our  belles.  And  yet  not  exactly  a  belle,  either : 
I  mean  it  always  seemed  that  she  could  have  been 
more  than  that  she  wanted  to  be.  Florence  Lane  was 
always  my  ideal ;  I  used  to  look  up  at  her,  when  a 
child,  with  ecstatic  adoration." 

She  dropped  naively,  in  her  impulsiveness,  to  the 
more  natural  manner  of  her  age,  and  even  forgot 
more  than  once  to  pronounce  the  Boston  broad  a. 

"  But  tell  ma  how  she  seemed  to  you,"  she  went  on. 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  27 

"  The  first  I  ever  saw  of  her  was  at  the  entertain- 
ment of  a  high  functionary,  in  Paris,"  replied  Paul 
Barclay,  with  some  air  of  constraint,  and  yet  of  will- 
ingness, after  all,  to  furnish  this  reminiscence  of  a 
traveler.  "  I  arrived  at  an  official  palace  in  the  Rue 
de  Varennes,  where  two  statue-like  cuirassiers  sat  on 
horseback  in  the  court-yard.  At  the  foot  of  a  grand 
staircase  a  chamberlain  in  black  velvet,  with  a  ribbon 
and  medal  about  his  neck,  waved  you  up  to  another, 
who  announced  you  in  the  reception-rooms.  I  re- 
marked a  lady  of  a  grace  and  distinction  far  beyond 
all  others  present.  '  There,'  said  I, '  is  surely  the  true 
type  of  a  Montmorency  or  La  Rochejaquelein  ;  there 
is  the  vielle  roche,  the  very  flower  of  patrician  love- 
liness.' I  was  still  in  my  first  days  abroad,  and  full 
of  romantic  notions.  I  asked  who  she  was,  and  they 
told  me,  '  The  daughter  of  the  American  minister.'  " 

"  Then,  of  course,  you  knew  all  about  her  wedding, 
too,  and  were  probably  present  at  it  ?  The  society 
papers  were  full  of  it  at  the  time.  They  gave  long 
lists  of  guests  of  rank  and  distinction.  There  were 
even  presents  from  crowned  heads,  —  on  account 
of  her  father's  position,  I  suppose.  Let  me  see  :  it 
was  a  Belgian  she  married,  I  think?" 

"  Yes,  Varemberg  was  a  Belgian." 

"  He  was  not  titled  himself,  but  had  grand  connec- 
tions, and  was  very  rich  ?  " 

"  Varemberg  was  supposed  to  be  a  person  of  for- 
tune. He  was  an  accomplished,  entertaining  fellow. 
I  recollect  he  professed  an  especial  liking  for  Ameri- 
cans." 


28  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

••  It  was  called  a  very  brilliant  affair.  What  a 
pity  it  turned  out  so  badly ! " 

She  sighed,  as  if  in  pity  that  it  ever  had  to  be  said 
that  brilliant  things  turned  out  badly. 

Barclay  looked  at  her  with  a  glance  of  rising  curi- 

"  She  is  so  changed  now  one  would  scarcely  know 
her,"  went  on  the  informant.  "  She  is  not  the  same 
person  at  all,  since  her  return." 

*•  Her  return  ?     She  has  been  here,  then  ?  " 

••  Why,  she  lives  here.  She  returned  not  very 
long  after  her  father  was  recalled  from  his  post." 

••  Mrs.  Varemberg  is  here  ?  " 

-'  To  be  sure  she  is,  though  one  scarcely  ever  sees 
her.  She  keeps  a  close  seclusion  ;  it  is  partly  on  ac- 
count of  her  troubles,  I  suppose,  and  then,  too,  she  is 
a  good  deal  of  an  invalid." 

"  And  her  husband  ?"" 

«  She  has  left  him." 

The  recipient  of  this  intelligence  showed  a  disturb- 
ance of  manner  over  it  that  would  hardly  have  been 
occasioned  by  an  ordinary  piece  of  gossip. 

••  What  seemed  to  be  the  trouble?"  he  asked. 

"  People  do  not  know  exactly  what  happened ;  it 
has  all  been  kept  very  quiet." 

By  way  of  withdrawing  attention  from  any  unus- 
ual agitation  he  may  have  exhibited,  the  young  man, 
upon  this,  affected  a  new  interest  in  things  on  the 
river.  Justine  DeBow  was  dying  to  know  if  he  were 
likely  to  fetay,  and  if  she  should  meet  him  in  the 
society  of  the  place.  She  ventured  to  ask  him. 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  29 

"  I  am  here  only  on  a  brief  business  errand,"  he 
responded. 

The  Chippewa  Street  bridge  was  at  hand,  where 
Ludwig  Trapschuh  was  making  his  observations.  A 
tug,  puffing  near  the  bow  of  the  Pride  of  the  West, 
put  on  an  extra  pressure,  of  steam  to  drag  out  a 
heavy  flour-scow  it  had  iu  tow.  The  strain  proved 
too  much  for  a  defective  portion  of  the  machinery. 
Bang !  With  a  sharp  explosion,  off  blew  a  cylinder 
head ;  her  smoke-stack  and  part  of  her  cabin  roof 
came  flying  against  the  propeller's  side  as  if  shot 
from  a  catapult,  and  carried  away  some  stanchions  of 
the  rail,  close  by  our  couple.  It  was  over  in  an  in- 
stant, and  no  serious  harm  was  done,  but  Justine  was 
affected  by  a  nervous  panic,  and  Barclay  was  obliged 
to  reassure  her  till  her  parents  came  up  and  her  own 
better  sense  prevailed. 

He  himself  showed  no  signs  of  fear,  but  seemed 
strangely  thrilled  by  another  cause.  He  exclaimed,  — 

"  History  repeats  itself  !  My  father  was  killed  at 
this  same  place." 

It  was  all  in  the  papers  of  the  same  afternoon,  and 
particularly  in  that  very  enterprising  sheet  the  Kee- 
waydin  Index.  This  paper  "  interviewed "  James 
DeBow,  and  endeavored  to  do  as  much  for  Paul  Bar 
clay,  but  could  not  find  him.  It  also  put  at  the  head 
of  its  column  the  motto,  "  History  repeats  itself." 
Then,  following  a  smart  journalistic  practice  of  print- 
ing everything  apropos  of  the  occasion,  it  rehearsed 
the  whole  history  of  the  tragedy  at  the  Chippewa 
Street  bridge,  of  years  before,  with  full  notes  of  the 
inquests  and  sketches  of  the  principal  participants. 


30  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

However  it  was  to  others,  his  paper  that  day  was 
extremely  interesting  reading  to  ex-Mayor,  ex-Gov- 
ernor, and  ex-Minister  David  Lane,  living  now  in  his 
handsome  mansion  on  the  bluff,  above  the  lake  shore. 

Paul  Barclay  landed,  and  was  driven  to  the  princi- 
pal hotel,  the  Telson  House,  the  trim  facade  and  spa- 
cious corridors  of  which  were  the  especial  pride  of 
Keewaydin.  He  left  the  hotel  again  for  the  office  of 
a  law  firm  known  as  Mackintosh  and  Rand,  in  Kee- 
waydin Block.  Mackintosh  was  dead,  it  appeared, 
but  he  was  received  by  the  surviving  partner,  a  man 
of  gaunt,  bony  figure  and  not  too  prepossessing  coun- 
tenance. He  was  led  through  an  anteroom,  where  a 
pallid  clerk  was  writing  at  a  desk,  and  a  stout,  mid- 
dle-aged gentleman  was  seated  with  a  weary  air  of 
dancing  attendance. 

"  I  was  expecting  you,  Mr.  Barclay,"  said  Rand. 
"The  death  of  our  Mr.  Mackintosh,  who  had  your 
matters  particularly  in  charge,  embarrassed  me  a 
little,  of  course,  but  I  have  caught  up,  and  you  '11  find 
everything  ready  for  your  inspection,  whenever  you 
please  to  go  over  it." 

"  If  quite  convenient,  then,  I  should  like  to  do  so 
at  once.  I  am  on  my  way  to  New  York,  and  anxious 
to  be  off  again  as  soon  as  possible." 

"  So  I  judged  by  your  letter  from  San  Francisco. 
Sit  down.  I  '11  be  with  you  immediately." 

The  lawyer  went  out  to  the  anteroom,  and  returned 
with  a  tin  box,  labeled  with  a  list  of  its  contents. 
These  were  spread  upon  a  large  table,  and  the  two 
men  sat  down  to  their  examination. 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  31 

It  was  a  question  of  timber  lands  in  Eau  Claire 
County,  mineral  deposits  near  Escanaba,  a  water 
privilege  and  saw-mills  on  the  Chippewa  River,  a 
large  tract  in  Marathon  County,  —  on  which  there 
was  a  proposition  to  establish  a  colony  of  Danes, — 
and  some  city  blocks  and  the  like  in  Keewaydin. 
This  was  property  left  by  the  original  Barclay,  and 
his  son  had  now  for  the  first  time,  at  the  request  of 
his  family,  stopped  to  look  into  it. 

"  By  the  way,"  said  he,  "  they  have  also  forwarded 
another  letter,  which  was  sent  to  me  in  their  care." 

He  drew  from  his  pocket  a  bulky  communication, 
which  proved  to  be  a  pathetic  appeal,  from  a  Kee- 
waydin correspondent,  to  be  saved  from  impending 
bankruptcy.  The  attorney  glanced  at  it  with  a  con- 
temptuous shrug. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  he,  "  it  is  Maxwell,  again,  about 
that  Barclay's  Island  property  and  his  Stamped- Ware 
Works.  So  he  gets  at  you,  too  ?  He  has  all  but 
talked  me  to  death  with  his  plea  for  an  extension, 
but  I  don't  see  that  we  can  do  anything  for  him." 

"  Tell  me  about  the  affair  and  this  Maxwell. 
What  is  he  like  ?  Is  he  honest  ?  " 

"  Oh,  honest  enough,  I  dare  say,  as  far  as  that 
goes,"  with  a  clear  implication  that  there  are  much 
more  important  things  in  the  world  than  honesty. 
"  He  is  over-sanguine,  a  poor  calculator,  and  weighed 
down  by  a  large  family,  too,  and  has  been  making  a 
losing  fight  of  it  all  along." 

"  And  what  are  the  merits  of  the  case  ?  " 

"  Why,  just  this:  the  factory  is  in  excellent  condi- 


32  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

tion,  and  if  \ve  foreclose  now  we  have  a  very  good 
thing  of  it ;  while  if  we  wait,  and  let  him  run  along, 
everything  will  go  to  rack,  and  will  hardly  be  worth 
taking.  He  has  put  a  lot  of  money  into  improve- 
ments, and  we  can  get  the  whole  for  a  mere  song." 

"  Are  such  things  really  done  ?  "  asked  the  young 
man,  in  surprise. 

"  My  dear  sir,  very  few  of  us  are  so  well  off  in 
this  world's  goods  as  to  be  able  to  afford  to  actually 
throw  money  away,  and  that  is  what  it  is  doing  to 
neglect  a  chance  like  this.  I  speak  as  one  business 
man  to  another.  You  would  hardly  wish  me  to  be 
less  devoted  to  your  interests  than  my  own." 

••  My  business  experience  has  been  of  rather  limited 
extent  up  to  this  time." 

"  Naturally,  naturally,  and  you  do  well.  Why 
should  a  young  gentleman  of  your  fortune  and  posi- 
tion bother  his  head  about  such  matters  ?  " 

"It  is  your  judgment,  then,  that  the  mortgage 
should  be  foreclosed  ?  " 

"  Certainly  it  is.  Maxwell  has  nobody  to  blame 
but  himself;  he  would  tell  you  so  frankly.  He  is 
outside  there  now,  I  see ;  his  time  is  up  to-morrow, 
and  I  suppose  he  has  come  in  for  some  sort  of  final 
palaver." 

"With  this  he.  appeared  satisfied  that  he  had  laid 
any  trifling  scruples  there  might  be  in  the  mind  of 
his  patron  entirely  at  rest. 

"  I  will  see  Maxwell,"  said  Barclay,  impassively. 

The  attorney  touched  a  bell,  and  the  pallid  clerk 
ushered  iu  the  dejected-looking  gentleman  from  the 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  33 

anteroom.  Maxwell  went  over  his  story  again,  in 
person.  Once  only,  yielding  to  a  touch  of  a  natural 
hopefulness,  he  said,  — 

"  With  a  little  more  money,  that  factory  could  be 
made  one  of  the  best  paying  properties  in  the  world." 

The  lawyer  directed  at  his  principal  shrewd  smiles 
and  winks  of  commiseration,  and  glances,  as  who 
should  say,  "  Shall  I  cut  him  short  ?  Have  we  had 
enough  of  this  nonsense  ?  "  So  sure  was  he  of  the 
result  that  he  even  took  it  upon  himself  to  save  his 
patron  the  trouble  of  replying. 

"  It  won't  do,  Maxwell,"  said  he.  "  You  have  no 
new  considerations  of  any  business  kind  to  offer. 
Mr.  Barclay  has  been  kind  enough  to  hear  you  him- 
self, and  now  you  ought  to  be  satisfied,  but  you  see 
as  well  as  I  do  things  have  got  to  take  their  course." 

The  manufacturer  turned  in  a  broken  way  to  de- 
part. He  seemed  from  the  first  to  have  expected  lit- 
tle else. 

"  Hold  on  !  "  cried  Paul  Barclay,  suddenly  throw- 
ing off  his  impassiveness.  "  I  will  extend  the  mort- 
gage." 

Maxwell  dropped  into  a  chair,  and,  like  Rand, 
stared  at  him  at  first  in  open-mouthed  astonishment. 

"  But  I  thought  —  we  had  agreed  "  —  began  Rand, 
in  expostulation. 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  make  money  in  any  such  detes- 
table way,"  said  Barclay,  with  indignation.  "  And 
for  the  future,"  he  added,  "  I  beg  to  take  the  man- 
agement of  my  affairs  into  my  own  hands." 

He  was  apparently  a  person  not  afraid  to  make 


34  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

enemies,  at  least  in  a  good  cause,  a  quality  already 
somewhat  rare  in  our  too  enervating  civilization. 
The  change  of  management  he  proposed,  it  may  here 
be  told,  would  reduce  the  income  of  his  property,  but 
it  would  add  to  the  comfort  of  many  persons,  for 
everybody  on  the  Barclay  estate  had  long  been  hav- 
ing a  very  hard  time  of  it. 

When  all  was  concluded  he  went  out  with  Max- 
well. 

Tears  of  emotion  filled  the  eyes  of  the  grateful 
manufacturer,  if,  indeed,  they  did  not  wholly  over- 
flow. 

"  It  seems  too  good  to  be  true !  "  he  exclaimed. 
"  I  was  all  ready  for  ruin ;  my  family  were  waiting 
to  be  turned  into  the  street." 

"  By  the  bye,"  said  Barclay,  in  parting  with  him, 
"  let  me  have  some  figures  about  the  factory  in  writ- 
ing. If  it  be  as  you  say,  some  little  further  capital 
may  perhaps  be  found  for  it." 

He  went  next  to  find  his  relatives,  the  Thorn- 
brooks,  and  then  spent  some  time  musingly  looking 
off  at  the  water  from  the  Chippewa  Street  bridge. 

In  the  evening  he  left  his  hotel  once  more,  and 
drove  to  see  the  Mrs.  Varemberg  of  whom  he  had 
heard  on  the  steamer,  at  the  house  of  her  father, 
David  Lane. 


III. 

MRS.    VAREMBERG. 

DAVID  LANE'S  house  was  spacious  and  comfort- 
able, but,  with  its  peculiar  tower  and  general  orna- 
mentation of  the  capricious  irregularity  that  too  often 
marks  the  American  striving  after  architectural  ef- 
fect, it  could  hardly  be  accounted  anything  more.  It 
dated  from  a  period  long  before  his  going  abroad,  and 
he  would  perhaps  have  done  much  better  now,  but 
he  had  not  thought  it  worth  while  to  build  again. 
He  had  only  added,  at  the  entrance  to  the  grounds, 
a  tall,  handsome,  wrought-iron  gateway,  like  that  of 
some  foreign  chateau.  A  row  of  conservatories 
flanked  the  house  on  the  right  hand,  and  graceful 
clumps  of  shrubbery  on  the  left. 

The  interior,  on  the  contrary,  was  in  excellent 
taste ;  here  everything  accorded  with  an  intelligent 
understanding  of  luxury.  As  Paul  Barclay  waited 
in  one  of  the  drawing-rooms,  while  his  card  was 
taken  above,  his  eyes  rested  upon  warm  and  harmo- 
nious coloring,  —  tapestries,  pictures,  and  carvings, 
and  many  trophies  of  travel  and  rare  souvenirs  that 
would  naturally  belong  to  a  family  like  this. 

Mrs.  Varemberg  rustled  down  to  him  presently  in 
a  becoming  toilette,  that  seemed  perhaps  to  be  a  trifle 
too  much  in  relief,  however,  as  if  the  frail  figure  of 


36  TllK   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

the  wearer  had  shrunk  away  from  it.  She  was  clasp- 
ing on  her  wrist  a  bracelet  of  curious  pattern,  from 
which  tinkled  some  small,  golden  ornaments. 

"  Is  it  indeed  you  ?  Is  it  actually  Paul  Barclay  ?  " 
she  asked,  with  much  animation. 

"  Yes,  I  think  there  can  be  little  doubt  of  it. 
There  must  be  a  certain  solidity  about  me,  even 
now." 

There  was  no  lack  of  it  in  the  strong,  manly  pres- 
sure of  the  hand  he  gave  to  hers,  which  she  held  out 
to  him  in  welcome. 

"You  have  grown  stouter,"  she  said,  beginning 
with  the  merest  commonplaces. 

"  It  is  the  effect  of  the  long  journey.  I  shall  have 
to  train  down  again.  And  you  "  — 

"  Oh,  do  not  look  at  me.  I  am  a  mere  bundle  of 
aches  and  pains." 

She  was  tall,  for  a  woman,  —  not  very  far  below 
Barclay's  own  height.  Large,  dark,  softly  lustrous 
eyes,  with  long  lashes,  illuminated  most  expressively 
a  countenance  full  of  intelligence.  A  piquant  nose 
and  a  mobile,  lovable  mouth,  seemingly  meant  for 
happier  things,  were  contradicted  by  a  pervading  air 
of  sadness.  The  corners  of  the  mouth  tended  too 
much  downward,  and  there  were  sombre  shadows  of 
care  and  illness,  which  were  not  wholly  thrown  off 
even  with  the  vivacity  of  manner  she  now  assumed. 
Upon  her  slender  and  graceful  neck  turned  a  head  of 
peculiar  distinction,  the  excellent  shape  of  which  her 
dark-brown  hair,  in  a  simple  knot  at  the  back,  well 
became.  Her  voice  was  charmingly  sweet,  —  the 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  37 

voice  of  Florence  Lane  of  old,  modified  now  by  tones 
of  deeper  meaning,  derived  from  an  eventful  expe- 
rience. 

She  had  at  times  a  harassing  little  cough,  that 
awakened  the  concern  of  the  hearer.  There  was  a 
latent  pathos  in  her  smile,  an  elusiveuess  in  her 
glance.  The  languor  of  weakness  appeared  in  her 
movements,  and  an  impaired  vitality  in  the  touch  of 
her  beautiful  white  hand.  Her  manner  was  refine- 
ment itself,  without  a  trace  of  stiffness. 

"  Fading,  distinctly  fading,"  said  the  visitor  to  him- 
self ;  "  and  at  this  age  !  These  are  time's  revenges 
—  ah,  but  I  did  not  wish  to  be  revenged." 

"  Let  me  see,"  said  Mrs.  Varemberg,  reflectively  : 
"  the  last  I  distinctly  saw  of  you  must  have  been  when 
you  stopped  at  our  chateau  of  Varemberg  —  not  very 
long  after  my  marriage."  She  slightly  hesitated  on 
the  last  words,  and  Barclay  winced.  "  Always  impa- 
tient, always  full  of  the  true  American  unrest !  The 
place  in  itself  was  rambling  and  curious  enough  to 
detain  you  a  little  longer ;  but,  no,  nothing  would 
induce  you  to  stay  over  more  than  a  single  train. 
Since  then,  I  fear  I  have  scarcely  even  known  whether 
you  were  living  or  dead." 

"  And  might  one  suppose  that  you  had  cared  a 
trifle  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,  I  will  frankly  admit  that  I  cared.  I 
suppose  yon  have  been  practicing  some  one  of  your 
learned  professions,  in  the  mean  time,  —  you  had 
more  than  one,  —  and  forgot  all  about  us.  When 
did  you  leave  New  York  ?  " 


38  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

"I  left  Jerusalem,  Calcutta,  Cape  Town,  Tama- 
tave,  the  isles  of  the  sea,  but  not  New  York." 

"  I  do  not  quite  understand." 

"  I  have  been  making  a  tour  of  the  world  for  the 
past  four  years,  and  am  now  on  my  way  home." 

'•  You  must  have  seen  pretty  much  everything  that 
is  rare  and  curious,  in  that  time  ?  " 

"  I  have  been  at  some  few  out-of-the-way  places, 
—  sometimes  so  far  from  civilization  as  to  know  very 
little  of  its  doings.  I  cannot  profess,  even  now,  a 
very  exhaustive  acquaintance  with  them." 

There  was  some  hidden  meaning  in  this  last,  but 
she  did  not  yet  know  what  it  was. 

"  And  this  formidable  air  of  man  of  the  world, 
with  which  you  have  come  back,  —  do  I  like  it,  or  do 
I  not  ?  "  she  said,  putting  her  head  critically  a  little 
on  one  side,  in  a  playful  way.  "  Yes,  I  think  I  do. 
Do  you  mind  my  saying  that  ?  " 

"  Not  if  you  can  conscientiously  be  so  flattering." 

"  Oh,  I  can  for  once  in  a  way." 

"  This  is  the  second  time  to-day  I  have  been  re- 
ferred to  as  a  man  of  the  world.  I  must  get  back  my 
natural  look  of  student  and  recluse ;  these  false  pre- 
tenses will  not  do." 

"  You  will  never  get  it  back  again  ;  and  you  had 
more  of  it,  too,  than  you  may  think,  for  all  of  your 
fling  at  it.  It  was  a  charming  look  —  Yes,  you 
have  changed." 

"  Yes,  I  have  changed,"  he  admitted,  and  smiled 
with  a  certain  pleasure  at  the  effectiveness  of  his  new 
panoply. 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  39 

"  Who  was  the  other  that  called  you  a  man  of  the 
world  ?  " 

"  A  little  Miss  DeBow,  whom  I  met  on  the 
steamer." 

"  Ah,  you  came  on  the  steamer,  then  ?  " 

"  Did  you  not  know  it  ?  " 

"  How  should  I  have  known  it  ?" 

"  It  was  in  the  papers,"  he  said  simply. 

"  I  do  not  always  even  read  the  papers  ;  I  live  so 
quietly." 

No  further  mention  was  made  of  the  accident,  and 
it  was  not  till  later  that  she  knew  of  it  and  its  real 
significance.  She  was  thinking,  too,  of  other  things 
in  his  regard,  and  yielded  to  the  momentary  inadver- 
tence of  a  mind  that,  though  perfectly  courteous  in 
intent,  has  been  a  little  strained  and  wearied. 

"  Miss  Justine  DeBow  is  one  of  our  local  beauties 
of  the  younger  generation,  whom  I  observe  from  afar 
off,"  she  next  said.  "  I  believe  she  holds  herself  on 
quite  a  high  and  peculiar  pedestal  of  her  own." 

"  On  what  does  her  unusual  claim  to  distinction 
rest,  if  one  might  inquire  ?  " 

"  Ah,  that  is  it,  —  she  holds  herself  so,  that  is  all. 
When  one  makes  claims  of  that  kind,  persistently 
enough,  one  generally  ends  by  getting  them  granted. 
She  has  her  little  ambitions.  Did  she  not  treat  you 
very  graciously  ?  She  is  by  no  means  gracious  to  all, 
I  am  told." 

"  I  can  hardly  complain  of  my  treatment." 

"  You  are  one  of  the  kind  she  would  naturally  like. 
Did  you  lose  your  heart  to  her  ?  You  will  be  made 


-10  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

imidi  of  by  all  the  Keewaydin  belles,  and  notables  of 
t  Vfi-y  kind,  if  you  will  stay.  Learned  travelers  and 
ilHi'ttinit;  are  by  no  means  common  among  us  —  But 
I  forgot:  probably  there  is  a  Mrs.  Barclay,  by  this 
time  ?  " 

"  There  is  no  Mrs.  Barclay." 

The  visitor  mentally  accused  her  of  a  lack  of  fine- 
ness. This  was  not  her  natural  manner,  as  he  had 
known  it ;  she  seemed  to  have  borrowed  another  for 
the  occasion,  and  from  a  stratum  lower  down.  It 
was  well  to  skim  over  the  surface  of  things,  to  pre- 
tend that  nothing  of  unusual  moment  had  taken  place 
between  them,  and  treat  the  past  as  irrevocably  set- 
tled ;  that  was  what  he  had  meant  to  do,  that  was 
what  he  was  doing.  But  need  she  have  gone  so  far 
out  of  her  way  to  put  her  finger  on  a  wound  which, 
for  aught  she  knew,  might  still  be  open  and  bleed- 
ing ?  She  was  not  supposed  to  know  that  it  had  en- 
tirely healed. 

"  Then  you  will  stay  ?  "  she  rattled  on.  "  I  assure 
you,  as  a  resident,  that  our  city  will  feel  only  too 
flattered  to  be  added  to  your  collection.  May  I  ask 
how  it  already  answers  to  your  expectations?  " 

"  It  could  hardly  have  surpassed  them  ;  the  excep- 
tional charms  of  Mrs.  Varemberg  had  given  me  too 
high  an  idea  of  it  for  that,"  he  replied,  with  one  of 
those  courtly-satirical  bows  used  in  this  kind  of  par- 
ley. "  You  may  remember,  in  the  old  times,  that  I 
always  wanted  to  see  it.  I  have  relatives  here,  the 
Thornbrooks.  —  absent,  by  the  way,  just  now,  —  and 
my  father  died  here.  But  it  is  a  matter  of  business 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  41 

that  brings  me  at  present.  I  shall  have  to  be  off 
again  to  Eau  Claire  and  Marathon  County,  to-mor- 
row. I  may  stop  a  few  days,  on  my  return,  but  even 
that  is  uncertain." 

"  It  was  doubly  good  of  you  to  come  and  find  me, 
under  the  circumstances.  But  tell  me,  lost  so  long 
in  the  jungles  of  the  antipodes  as  you  were,  how  did 
you  know  where  I  was  ?  How  did  you  hear  of  me  ?" 

"  I  have  to  confess  that  I  really  knew  much  less 
than  you  may  suppose.  I  followed  your  name  up  the 
river,  on  the  revenue  cutter,  and  the  young  girl  I 
have  mentioned  began  to  talk  of  Mrs.  Varemberg." 

*'  And  then  you  went  over  the  list  of  V's,  and  said, 
'  Dear  me !  it  seems  as  if  I  do  remember  knowing  a 
person  of  that  name  once.'  " 

"  Yes,  that  is,  naturally,  what  one  would  say." 

Again  the  forced  note,  the  slight  jar  on  his  sensibili- 
ties. Was  it  bravado,  was  it  defiance,  lest  he  should 
gloat  over  her  sufferings  ?  For  that  she  had  suffered, 
mentally  and  physically,  no  one  could  look  at  her  and, 
deny.  Far,  indeed,  was  it  from  him  to  think  of  gloat- 
ing over  her.  He  was  grieved  beyond  measure  at 
her  invalid  aspect  and  the  hint  of  her  misfortunes  he 
had  heard.  He  would  once  have  given  his  life  to 
spare  her  uneasiness ;  and  nothing  that  had  happened, 
or  could  ever  happen,  could  set  aside  the  fundamen- 
tal regard  he  had  entertained  for  her,  or  replace  it  by 
small  personal  pique. 

He  was  facing  his  past,  the  central  episode  of  his 
existence,  the  woman  who  had  disrupted  his  life,  like 
one  of  those  cataclysms  that  leave  nothing  as  it  had 


42  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

previously  stood.  He  had  said  long  since,  "  It  is  for 
the  best.  Everything  that  is  is  right ; "  and  he  was 
tempted  to  add  to  it  now,  "  We  would  never  have 
done  for  each  other.  It  is  very  clear." 

When  something  terrible  has  happened  to  one  in 
this  world,  he  does  not  necessarily  go  about  rending 
his  garments  and  crying  it  at  the  top  of  his  voice. 
He  need  not  do  this  even  at  the  time  of  its  occur- 
rence ;  still  less  when  he  has  wholly  recovered,  and 
feels  himself  reconciled  to  his  fate.  It  was  not  that 
Barclay  had  been  formally  jilted.  He  had  not  pro- 
posed and  been  rejected  in  so  many  words ;  pride, 
diffidence,  a  multitude  of  circumstances,  had  pre- 
vented that.  But  he  had  loved  and  lost  the  Florence 
Lane  whom  he  had  described  to  Justine  DeBow.  He 
had  seen  her  become  the  wife  of  another,  when  he 
thought  she  must  have  known  of  his  own  absorbing 
devotion  and  desire  to  offer  her  his  hand.  His  re- 
mote visit  to  the  chateau  referred  to  had  been  an 
attempt  to  harden  himself  to  the  sight  of  her  new 
happiness,  a  desperate  remedy  which  he  could  not 
endure.  He  had  fled  from  it,  and,  unsettled  in  all  his 
habits,  views,  and  plans,  had  begun  desultory  wander- 
ings over  the  face  of  the  earth,  which  had  lasted  till 
now. 

He  had  long  since  considered  himself  cured.  He 
felt  quite  callous  to  his  pain,  and  cynically  disposed 
to  make  light  of  it  as  a  small  matter,  —  something 
very  commonly  happening  to  young  men,  and  no 
doubt  wisely  intended  to  give  their  sentimental  na- 
tures a  proper  exercise.  It  was  probably  better  than 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  43 

not  for  him  to  have  gone  through  such  an  experi- 
ence. 

He  had  been  uncertain,  even,  which  hemisphere 
contained  her  when  he  found  her  here.  He  said  to 
himself  that,  in  this  brief  visit,  he  wante&only  to  see 
how  she  looked ;  what  she  had  become  ;  how  she.  on 
her  side,  had  stood  all  these  years  and  her  altered 
fate.  There  was  pathos,  it  is  true,  in  the  fragment 
of  her  story  he  had  heard,  and  he  was  moved  by  it, 
but,  apart  from  this,  he  believed  himself  stirred  by 
no  warmer  motive  than  a  calm,  retrospective  interest. 
The  interview  was  going  to  have  a  kind  of  pensive 
luxury  for  him;  he  was  going  to  conjure  up  a  faint, 
sweet  spectre  of  his  buried  hopes.  It  would  be  like 
tracing  the  path  of  some  imminent  danger  he  had 
escaped,  or  walking,  convalescent,  on  a  battle-field 
where  he  had  been  left  for  dead. 

He  had  both  a  better  opinion  of  himself  than  for- 
merly, and  a  worse.  He  put  down  his  slight  feeling 
of  irritation,  and  said  to  her  in  effect,  if  not  in  so 
many  words,  — 

"  It  was  by  no  means  a  person  to  be  regretted  that 
you  have  missed.  I  have  had  ample  experience  of 
him  in  the  mean  time,  and  can  speak  with  authority." 

They  began  to  chat  of  many  common  reminiscences 
of  their  life  abroad.  A  listener  must  have  gathered 
that  they  had  once  been  on  most  excellent  terms. 

"  Do  you  remember,"  Mrs.  Varemberg  asked,  "  our 
rides  in  the  forest  of  Saint  Germain,  how  we  used 
to  go  out  in  our  habits,  dine  at  the  Pavilion  Henri 
Quatre,  and  return  on  the  top  of  the  train  ?  " 


44  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

"  And  do  you  remember,"  her  companion  rejoined, 
"our  evening  at  the  fete  foraine,  on  the  exterior 
boulevards  ?  " 

••  Yes ;  you  had  dined  with  us  at  the  Legation,  and 
you  made  us  go,  on  the  pretext  that  it  was  '  local 
color '  and  characteristic  foreign  life.  My  poor  aunt, 
Mrs.  Clinton,  nearly  caught  her  death  of  cold,  with 
your  local  color,  and  your  tombolas,  and  the  '  Four 
Horrible  Tortures  '  "  — 

"  And  the  '  Bird  Lottery,'  and  the  '  Torpedo 
Girl ' "  — 

"  And  the  '  Man  of  Fire.'  '  Entrez,  Mesdames  et 
Messieurs !  Moi,  je  suis  1'Homme  du  Feu,'  "  she 
said,  quoting.  u  '  Pas  dix  sous,  pas  huit  sous  '  "  — 

"  Pas  six  sous,  —  not  even  five  sons,  only  four 
miserable  sous,  —  to  come  in  and  see  the  most 
wonderful,  the  most  incredible,  phenomenon  in  the 
world,"  added  Barclay,  promptly  completing  the  jar- 
gon. 

"  You  were  forever  trying  to  drag  us  about  to 
some  crumbly  old  ruin  or  other,  or  some  impossible 
rookery  with  a  lot  of  queer  people  in  it." 

"  I  must  do  you  the  justice  to  say  you  did  not  al- 
ways come." 

"  Of  course  I  did  not.  I  remember  you  always 
picked  out  even  your  hotel  by  its  picture,  and  would 
rather  have  one  that  had  been  a  mediaeval  donjon 
than  another  with  the  cuisine  of  a  Vatel  or  Blot." 

"  You  speak  with  the  proper  American  contempt 
of  such  things." 

"  Still,  I  shall  never  quite  know  how  much  yon 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  45 

had  to  do  with  influencing  my  destiny,  by  inspiring 
in  me  the  same  sort  of  unprofitable  fancies." 

She  laughed,  but  her  laugh  was  broken  by  the  har- 
assing cough. 

Influencing  her  destiny  ?  Had  he,  then,  ever  in- 
fluenced it  in  the  slightest  degree  ?  Ah,  if  she  could 
but  know  how  she  had  influenced  his  !  As  he  sat 
there,  it  gave  him  an  involuntary  thrill  to  look  back 
upon  such  an  absolute  waste  and  devastation. 

"  And  now  that  you  have  returned  to  your  native 
land,  no  doubt  you  have  some  extraordinary  avoca- 
tion in  view  ?  " 

"  None  of  the  ordinary  avocations  greatly  attract 
me,  to  tell  the  truth.  I  do  not  seem  to  care  much 
for  the  honors  they  have  to  give,  and  I  have  money 
enough  for  my  moderate  wants." 

"Naturally,  with  your  many  opportunities  for  en- 
joyment, you  will  avail  yourself  of  them,  and  be  a 
man  of  leisure,"  Mrs.  Varemberg  amended,  as  in  po- 
lite deference  to  his  probable  intention. 

"  Why,  no.  I  had  thought  of  taking  up  some 
form  of  business." 

u  Now  it  is  you  that  are  American,  —  the  greed 
for  gain,  after  all,  '  the  ruling  passion  strong  in 
death.' " 

"  Who  was  that  celebrity,"  asked  Barclay,  ac- 
knowledging this  only  by  a  smile  of  indulgence,  "  who 
said  that  but  for  his  accursed  thirst  for  glory,  how 
contented  he  could  be  in  private  life  ?  " 

"  It  was  not  /,  at  any  rate,  —  perhaps  it  was  Fred- 
erick the  Great." 


46  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

"  Well,  I  am  like  him  ;  I  have  an  ambitiou." 

"Ah,  he  has  an  ambition/'^she  repeated  after  him 
in  soft  raillery. 

"  I  wish  to  put  in  a  stroke  for  the  good  of  human- 
ity." 

"  That  is  an  ambition,  indeed." 

"  Yes.  How  does  something  in  the  manufacturing 
way  strike  you  ?  " 

"  Like  Alice  in  Wonderland,  I  'm  afraid  I  don't 
quite  understand.  Do  you  mean  to  manufacture  some 
article  of  such  exceeding  use  that  the  whole  level  of 
human  comfort  will  be  raised  ?  Let  me  see,  —  it 
will  hardly  be  pianos  ;  perhaps  it  will  be  waffle-irons. 
I  am  told  that  something  of  that  kind  is  in  great  de- 
mand." 

"  You  are  a  scoffer ;  the  bears  will  some  time  come 
out  of  the  woods  and  eat  you  up.  The  fact  is  that  I 
have  a  certain  interest  in  the  working  classes." 

"  Really !  " 

"  I  fell  in,  on  my  travels,  with  a  sage  who  interested 
me  in  these  questions." 

Barclay  went  on  to  give  some  account  of  a  man, 
half  dreamer,  half  keen,  original  thinker,  whom  he 
had  met  with  amid  the  orange  groves  of  southern 
California.  He  had  already  written  a  treatise  that 
had  made  a  wide  stir  in  the  world ;  and  Barclay  had 
been  admitted  to  his  confidence  while  he  was  compos- 
ing a  new  work.  "  He  finds  that  poverty  keeps  pace 
with  progress,  and  is  even  promoted  by  it.  Compe- 
tition is  forcing  even  the  prudent  and  industrious  to 
take  the  bread  out  of  one  another's  mouths.  And, 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  47 

on  the  surface,  it  all  seems  to  be  nobody's  fault,  only 
the  slow,  grinding  effect  of  natural  Jaws." 

"  Your  sage  tells  nothing  we  have  not  heard  of  be- 
fore, it  seems  to  me." 

"  No,  but  the  difference  is  that  he  is  hopeful  about 
it ;  he  thinks  something  can  be  done." 

"  I  supposed  it  was  a  kind  of  dispensation  of  Prov- 
idence ;  that  is  the  usual  way  of  looking  at  it." 

"  I  had  rather  not  think  so  meanly  of  Providence. 
I  prefer  to  lay  it  to  the  greed  and  indifference  of 
men." 

"  And  you  are  going  to  put  your  philosopher's  rem- 
edy into  operation  ?  " 

"  Hardly  that,  though  I  believe  I  was  almost  a 
convert  to  it  once.  It  seems  rather  too  simple  and 
straightforward  to  be  true.  It  is  state  ownership  of 
the  land  —  and  that  sort  of  thing.  My  conservatism 
got  the  upper  hand  ;  I  concluded  only  to  be  a  fellow 
investigator,  and  devote  myself  to  finding  out  the  con- 
ditions of  the  problem,  —  the  problem  of  our  age  and 
the  immediate  future." 

"  There  are  too  many  people,  that  is  the  trouble ; 
I  have  heard  it  proved  at  my  father's  dinner-table." 

"  There  are  not  too  many  people,  and  there  never 
will  be  till  all  the  waste  places  of  the  earth  are  made 
to  blossom  as  the  rose.  Is  there  not  created  with 
every  mouth  a  pair  of  hands  to  feed  it  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,  it  would  seem  reasonable  to  suppose 
so." 

"  Every  man's  labor  ought  to  add  a  value  to  every 
other  man's.  Under  a  proper  state  of  things,  we 


4S  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

ought  to  look  upon  one  another,  even  in  the  most 
swarming  crowds,  with  a  friendly  warmth,  and  con- 
sider that  we  all  directly  benefit  one  another's  exist- 
ence. We  should  hear  no  more  of  the  profane  vul- 
gar and  of  keeping  them  at  a  distance." 

Nobody  could  have  had  a  more  pleasing  modesty 
than  he  in  the  statement  of  his  views.  There  was 
not  a  trace  of  the  prig  or  egotist  about  him.  At  the 
least  sign  of  wearying  the  attention  or  appearing  to 
make  high-flown  pretensions,  he  was  ready  to  stop, 
turn  aside,  and  laugh,  even  at  himself. 

"  It  sounds  beautifully,"  said  Mrs.  Varemberg. 
*'  And  how  is  this  connected  with  your  manufac- 
tory ?  " 

"  In  an  establishment  of  one's  own,  you  know,  he 
can  study  the  character,  habits,  needs,  and  possibili- 
ties of  his  working  people  at  first-hand ;  he  need  no 
longer  hear  them  from  demagogues  or  task-masters. 
Some  sort  of  political  career  might  be  the  best  way 
of  putting  his  information  in  practice.  Why  should 
I  not  take  a  little  different  career  from  others,  if  I 
choose  ?  Am  I  not  one  of  the  kind  that  can  afford 
it  ?  "  he  asked,  as  if  defending  himself. 

"  What  will  you  do  for  me  in  your  millennium  ?  " 
his  companion  broke  in. 

"  Anything  that  is  possible.     What  shall  it  be  ?  " 

"Ah,  that  is  hard  to  say,  unless  it  be  to  recom- 
mend me  a  new  doctor.  Everybody  recommends  me 
a  new  doctor ;  it  is  really  quite  remiss  in  you  not  to 
have  done  so  already." 

"  Ah,  you  are  not  well !  "  exclaimed  Barclay,  with 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  49 

deep  sympathy.  "  Let  us  talk  no  more  of  these  va- 
garies. Tell  ine  of  yourself!  What  is  the  meaning 
of  this  distressing  cough  ?  " 

"  It  is  only  a  cold  I  took,  at  the  theatre  at  Brus- 
sels, and  I  do  not  seem  to  quite  shake  it  off.  It  may 
have  touched  some  pulmonary  organ  a  little.  But 
it  is  not  an  interesting  subject." 

"  You  must  be  cured  ;  this  will  not  do." 

"  Then  there  is  need  of  the  physician  who  can 
'  minister  to  a  mind  diseased.'  " 

It  was  the  first  reference  to  her  troubles. 

"  I  feel  awkwardly  in  speaking  of  it,"  said  Barclay, 
hesitating,  "  but  may  I  say  how  pained  and  shocked 
I  have  been  to  hear  of  the  unfortunate  circumstance, 
of  the  —  the  —  termination  of  "  — 

"  Oh,  do  not  think  I  complain,"  she  rejoined  has- 
tily. "  Having  chosen  one  kind  of  life,  why  should 
I  find  fault  because  it  is  not  another  ?  " 

"I  find  it  hard  to  understand.  You  seemed  so 
adapted  to  each  other,  —  you  seemed  so  content  with 
him." 

"  He  lost  his  money,  and  I  left  him,"  said  Mrs. 
Varemberg,  looking  at  her  visitor  fixedly. 

"  What !  "  he  cried,  incredulous. 

"  Did  he  not  promise  to  endow  me  with  all  his 
worldly  goods,  and  if  he  had  none  why  should  I  have 
stayed  with  him  ?  " 

This  was  clearly  perversity.  No  really  mercenary 
nature  would  accuse  itself  thus  openly  of  its  base- 
ness. But  was  there,  too,  an  atom  of  truth  in  it  ? 
Had  she  become  mainly  hard  and  flippant,  taken  all 


50  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

the  worse  instead  of  the  better  turnings,  and  suc- 
cumbed to  a  thorough-going  worldliness,  concerning 
which,  he  remembered,  he  had  once  entertained  mis- 
givings? Or  was  this  but  the  pathetic  bravado  of 
one  who  would  not  display  her  sufferings?  He  was 
puzzled,  and  could  not  determine. 

"  Ton  have  changed,  too,"  he  sighed. 

"  How  ?  "  she  asked,  prepared  to  receive  a  serious 
answer. 

But  he  thought  best  to  turn  it  aside  lightly 
with,  — 

"  Oh,  in  your  liking  for  personal  ornaments. 
*  Rings  on  her  fingers  and  bells  on  her  toes,' "  he 
quoted.  "  Once  your  taste  was  simplicity  itself  ;  jew- 
elry was  your  pet  aversion." 

"  It  is  my  poor  attempt  to  conceal  the  ravages  of 
time,"  she  replied,  clasping  again  the  bangle  with  its 
tinkling  ornaments.  She  had  seized  it  in  a  nervous 
way,  at  the  last  moment,  as  she  came  down.  "  The 
years  are  passing,  my  friend." 

They  had  risen,  and  made  a  few  steps  towards  the 
door,  when  a  noise  drew  Mrs.  Varemberg's  attention 
to  the  library,  adjoining. 

"  Papa,"  she  called,  awaiting  the  answer  in  a  lis- 
tening attitude,  "  this  is  Mr.  Barclay.  Will  you  not 
come  and  see  him  ?  " 

She  went  to  the  portiere  which  separated  the  rooms, 
and  drew  it  aside. 

David  Lane  was  there,  stock  still,  but  he  now 
moved  a  little  towards  them.  He  looked  old  and 
broken;  his  face  was  phenomenally  seamed  with 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  51 

wrinkles.  He  almost  glared  at  Barclay,  and  breathed 
in  stertorous  fashion. 

"  You  are  quite  well,  I  trust  ?  "  he  said,  in  a  stiff, 
formal  way.  "  It  is  many  years  since  we  last  met 
you." 

He  had  risen  but  now  from  his  meditations  over 
the  evening  paper.  The  journal  still  lay  as  it  had 
fallen  from  his  hand  on  a  richly-draped  table,  by  which 
stood  his  chair,  protected  from  draughts  by  a  high, 
folding  screen. 

There  was  also  present  an  elderly  lady,  Mrs.  Clin- 
ton, David  Lane's  sister,  the  manager  of  his  house- 
hold. She  was  dressed  in  some  sort  of  durable  black 
stuff,  after  her  usual  custom.  She  had  a  buxom  fig- 
ure, a  peculiarly  florid  complexion,  and  a  good  deal  of 
"  manner,"  as  the  saying  is.  She  would  beam  sud- 
denly on  her  visitor  as  if  overjoyed,  but  the  next 
moment  this  rapture  was  apt  to  die  out  and  leave  a 
certain  blankness,  as  if  she  had  already  forgotten  his 
existence.  She  was  a  mistress  of  all  the  arts  of  rou- 
tine, a  person  of  good  judgment  in  the  more  ordinary 
affairs  of  life,  but  without  any  marked  individuality, 
and  she  remained  as  she  began,  a  figure  of  minor  im- 
portance in  these  affairs. 

How  well  Barclay  remembered  the  last  meeting 
with  David  Lane  at  Paris  !  His  brief  retrospect  took 
in  substance  the  following  form  :  — 

"  I  went  to  him  for  counsel,  in  my  distracted  state. 
I  had  met  his  daughter  in  the  heyday  of  her  youth 
and  beauty.  She  had  a  prestige  in  two  hemispheres. 
Suitors  of  title  and  fortune  had  offered  themselves. 


52  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

The  great  Bradbrook  himself,  reputed  for  his  eccen- 
tricity and  his  millions,  had  come  over  expressly  from 
New  York  in  his  own  yacht  to  win  her,  and  been  re- 
jected. She  gave  me  her  friendship,  —  happy  that  I 
was !  —  and  next,  I  aspired  to  nothing  less  than  her- 
self, dazzling  though  her  prospects  were.  I  was  then 
self-critical,  self-torturing,  full  of  scruples,  squeam- 
ishness,  and  an  unpractical  reverence.  I  saw  in  her 
every  excellent  quality  of  head  and  heart,  and  her 
beauty  possessed  me  with  a  perfect  madness.  How 
well  and  strong,  how  lithe  and  round  and  fine  at 
every  point,  she  was  !  How  her  white  teeth  sparkled ! 
What  a  fascinating  malice  in  her  smile,  innocent, 
nevertheless,  of  conscious  guile !  The  siren  had 
sung  to  me,  and  my  bones  were  bound  to  bleach  on 
the  shores  of  her  island.  I  harrowed  my  soul  with 
devices  for  testing  her  favor.  Now  I  said,  '  She  loves 
me.'  Now,  '  She  loves  me  not.'  In  despair,  I  flew 
at  last  to  her  father,  and  asked  his  good  offices. 

" '  Do  not  for  one  moment  think  of  it ! '  he  replied. 
'You  will  but  incur  the  pain  of  a  certain  refusal.  I 
can  now  speak  only  vaguely,  but  she  is  not  free. 
Other  views  are  entertained  for  her,  and  I  beg  you, 
as  a  gentleman,  to  do  nothing  to  embarrass  a  course 
that  is  in  accord  both  with  her  own  inclinations  and 
her  best  good  and  happiness.' 

"  These  '  other  views  '  must  have  been  Varemberg. 
I  had  no  idea  that  he  had  already  made  such  headway 
in  her  affections.  He  was  of  brilliant  parts,  a  hand- 
some presence,  and  at  home  in  all  the  usages  of  so- 
ciety. He  seemed  to  amuse  her.  She  had  met  him 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  53 

with  her  father  in  their  travels,  and  been  entertained 
by  him  at  his  quaint,  time-honored  chateau.  They 
had  met,  also,  at  the  court  of  Berliu,  a  sister  of  his, 
married  to  a  chief  lord  in  waiting,  and  this  proud 
dame,  an  associate  of  all  the  Radziwills,  the  Hatz- 
felds,  the  Trachenbergs,  and  princes  of  Thurn  and 
Taxis,  had,  no  doubt,  contributed  to  her  bedazzle- 
ment.  This  match  was  pushed  rapidly  forward. 
As  in  a  kind  of  paralysis,  I  stood  and  saw  it  go  on. 
Surely  she  must  have  known  my  feelings  towards 
her.  she  must  have  heard  from  her  father  what  I  had 
said  to  him." 

"  Mr.  Barclay  has  magnificent  ideas,"  explained 
Mrs.  Varemberg  to  the  others  ;  "  he  is  going  to  re- 
form the  universe." 

"  There  is  so  much  questioning  now  of  all  that 
custom  had  considered  once  settled,"  sighed  her  aunt 
drearily. 

"  Perhaps  some  divine  rights  of  custom  will  have 
to  go,  like  the  divine  right  of  kings,"  rejoined  the 
new  humanitarian. 

"  I  'm  afraid  you  are  rather  dangerous,"  com- 
mented the  aunt,  casting  at  him  a  look  of  certain  sus- 
picion. 

This  good  lady  herself  did  not  indulge  in  drollery, 
and  comprehended  only  the  most  conventional  aspect 
of  things. 

"Oh,  he  is  dangerous,"  insisted  Mrs.  Varemberg: 
"  he  thinks  there  ought  to  be  charities  to  keep  people 
out  of  the  gutter,  instead  of  lifting  them  when  they 


54  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

are  in  it.  And  the  worst  of  it  is,  he  has  all  but 
brought  me  around  to  the  same  way  of  thinking." 

"  My  brother,"  said  Mrs.  Clinton,  "  has  done  a  good 
deal  in  that  way,  by  means  of  his  public  library,  in- 
dustrial schools,  and  the  like." 

David  Lane  had  taken  but  small  part  in  the  con- 
versation ;  he  appeared  preoccupied,  and  watched  the 
young  man  in  a  keen,  nervous  way,  apart.  With  a 
final  civil  commonplace  or  two  to  the  visitor,  he  with- 
drew, and  Mrs.  Clinton,  summoned  by  some  house- 
hold care,  soon  followed  him. 

"  I  never  quite  get  over  the  impression  that  your 
father  does  not  like  me,"  said  Barclay. 

"  Why  should  he  not  ?  " 

"  How  can  I  tell  ?  I  have  felt  this  adverse  influ- 
ence when  near  him,  and  yet  he  has  done  me  many 
favors  when  at  a  distance.  It  puzzles  me." 

"  He  has  the  best  heart  in  the  world.  Allow  us 
our  little  eccentricities." 

There  stood  a  large  geographical  globe  in  the 
room.  Placing  a  hand  upon  it,  Mrs.  Varemberg  re- 
volved it,  nonchalantly,  and  said, — 

"  Show  me  where  you  have  been  !  " 

Barclay  pointed  out  a  few  of  the  places  of  his  more 
remote  expeditions.  He  said  he  had  at  one  time 
thought  of  mining  in  South  Africa;  and  again,  of 
planting  coffee  in  Mexico  ;  and  again,  sugar  in  the 
Sandwich  Islands. 

"  But  you  came  back,  after  all." 

*•  Why,  yes,  I  came  back.  This  is  the  field  for 
new  experiments,  this  is  the  country  of  the  future." 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  55 

"  I  do  not  quite  understand  your  interest  in  the 
working  classes.  Why  should  a  young  man  of  f5r- 
tune  bother  his  head  about  the  working  classes  ?  " 

Barclay  could  not  tell  her  his  true  motive.  It  was 
not  in  order;  it  would  now,  probably,  never  be  in 
order.  He  could  not  say  to  her  that  the  pain  she 
had  made  him  suffer  had  softened,  not  hardened,  his 
heart,  and  turned  him  to  observing  the  miseries  of 
others.  If  he  had  formulated  his  motto,  it  might 
have  been,  "  Taught  by  misfortune,  I  pity  the  un- 
happy." 

The  interview  was  now  at  an  end.  Barclay's  im- 
agination sighed  over  this  lost  love  of  his  more  than 
he  had  deemed  possible.  It  was  all  just  as  he  had 
expected,  but  he  had  not  meant  his  philosophy  to 
be  so  much  disturbed.  He  wished  he  had  not  to  go 
away  and  leave  her  thus  suffering;  then  he  should 
have  been  much  easier  in  his  mind. 

"  Good-by,"  he  said. 

"  Good-by,"  said  Mrs.  Varemberg.  "  You  have 
drawn  me  out  of  myself ;  you  have  been  a  distrac- 
tion to  me.  Sometimes  I  scarcely  see  a  living  soul 
from  one  month's  end  to  another.  Now  I  shall  re- 
turn to  my  medicine-bottles  with  a  new  zest." 

And  she  rounded  out  with  a  smile  of  latent  pa- 
thos a  poor  fiction,  as  if  her  illness  were  really  one 
of  the  most  agreeable  things  in  the  world. 

David  Lane,  meanwhile,  had  gone  to  his  chamber, 
and  sat  down,  in  deep  melancholy,  by  a  window  that 
commanded  a  view  of  the  Golden  Justice  afar.  Even 


56  TI1E   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

at  night  some  wandering  gleams  of  radiance  sought 
hSr  out,  and  it  was  rare  that  she  was  not  visible. 

"  She  does  not  forget,"  he  muttered  ;  "  she  is  still 
waiting  for  me." 

••  What  fatal  portent  is  it  that  brings  this  young 
man  here?"  he  said,  again. 

Some  hours  later,  when  the  house  was  dark  and 
presumably  sunk  in  slumber,  he  made  his  way  along 
the  wide  halls,  and  knocked  at  the  door  of  his  daugh- 
ter's chamber. 

"  Are  you  well  ?  Are  you  warm  enough  ? "  he 
asked.  "  I  was  afraid  the  furnace  was  not  working 
as  it  should." 

Receiving  replies  in  the  affirmative,  he  added,  as  if 
by  the  way,  in  turning  to  depart, — 

-  Will  this  young  Mr.  —  Barclay  stay  long  in  the 
place  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  he  is  only  passing  through  ;  he  goes  to- 
morrow." 

With  this,  he  went  back,  easier  in  his  mind,  to  his 
own  apartment,  to  seek  the  repose  that  had  fled  from 
his  pillow. 


IV. 

A  TRUER  PICTURE    OF   MRS.  VAREMBERG. 

PAUL  BARCLAY  departed,  next  day,  on  his  journey 
to  the  upper  part  of  the  State,  as  he  had  proposed. 
On  his  return,  he  found  himself  detained  at  Keeway- 
din  rather  longer  than  he  had  expected.  The  scheme 
of  establishing  a  colony  on  his  lands  in  Marathon 
County  had  much  taken  his  fancy ;  he  closed  with  ail 
offer  made  him,  and  was  obliged  to  wait  for  and  con- 
fer more  or  less  with  the  leading  parties  to  the  trans- 
action. Then  there  were  new  adjustments  to  make 
in  regard  to  his  city  property,  now  that  he  had  taken 
the  management  of  it  into  his  own  hands  ;  and  there 
was  Maxwell.  Maxwell,  half  forgotten  meantime, 
but  by  no  means  himself  forgetful,  had  prepared  a 
written  statement,  carefully  carried  out  in  detail,  dis- 
playing the  condition  and  prospects  of  the  Stamped- 
Ware  Works,  and  had  been  several  times  to  his  hotel 
in  his  absence  to  seek  him.  The  rescued  manufac- 
turer talked  a  great  deal,  with  a  warm  enthusiasm 
natural  to  him,  and  finally  induced  Barclay  to  go 
down  to  the  factory  and  look  at  it  for  himself. 

"  It  needs  only  a  little  more  money,"  he  said,  "  to 
set  all  these  wheels  going  again  to  their  utmost  ca- 
pacity. Supposing,  merely  for  the  sake  of  the  argu- 
ment," he  suggested  in  fine,  "  that  you  should  feel 


58  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

disposed  to  join  us,  and  put  in  the  mortgage  you  hold 
on  the  concern  as  your  share  of  the  capital :  why, 
that  alone  would  float  us,  and  a  most  profitable  fu- 
ture would  be  insured." 

Curiously  enough,  Barclay  was  rather  impressed, 
in  the  sequel,  with  the  representations  made  him,  and 
thought  good  to  advise  upon  this,  together  with  some 
other  of  his  affairs,  with  his  relative  Thornbrook,  who 
had  been  au  excellent  and  conservative  man  of  busi- 
ness in  his  day. 

"  It  looks  well,  —  in  some  aspects  very  well,"  said 
Thornbrook.  "  If  you  could  stay  here  and  look  after 
such  an  enterprise,  or  personally  take  a  hand  in  it,  I 
should  see  no  objection  to  it  at  all ;  but  to  go  away, 
and  leave  it  behind  you  as  a  mere  investment  in  the 
charge  of.  another  person,  is  a  very  different  matter, 
and  that  I  should  by  no  means  recommend." 

The  unforeseen  duration  of  Barclay's  stay  in  the 
place  made  it  incumbent  on  him,  or  at  least  furnished 
him  an  excellent  reason,  to  renew  his  visits  to  Mrs. 
Varemberg.  With  his  limited  acquaintanceship,  and 
the  but  slight  demands  on  his  time  in  the  hours  when 
he  was  not  engaged  in  his  business  matters,  it  would 
have  been  strange  indeed  if  he  had  not  gone  to  in- 
quire again  after  her  health  ;  he  assured  himself  that 
it  would  not  have  been  even  civil  not  to  do  so. 

Mrs.  Varemberg  welcomed  him  in  pleasant  sur- 
prise, and  showed  a  friendly  interest  in  all -his  re- 
cent doings.  Her  father,  she  said,  was  absent  at  the 
East ;  he  had  been  called  away,  and  would  not  return 
for  a  month. 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  59 

Under  her  encouragement,  Barclay  described  his 
journey  at  full  length.  All  his  knocking  about  the 
world  and  his  trying  experiences  had  not  yet  spoiled 
a  receptive  and  impressionable  nature,  nor  made  him 
a  blase  traveler.  He  had  still  a  large  fund  of  freshness 
and  could  be  depended  on  to  find  almost  everywhere 
—  even  in  places  the  most  unpromising  —  some  en- 
tertaining or  picturesque  feature  or  novel  matter  for 
reflection.  On  the  present  occasion,  he  went  on  to 
speak  of  the  high  and  healthy  farming  region  he  had 
traversed  ;  of  the  hardy,  thriving  inhabitants  ;  of  vil- 
lages of  polyglot  foreigners,  Germans,  Scandinavians, 
Dutch,  Poles,  and  Swiss,  keeping  up  their  own  man- 
ners and  customs  and  languages ;  of  the  sturdy  lum- 
bermen, rafting  their  logs  down  the  swift  Chippewa 
and  Wisconsin  to  the  Mississippi ;  and  of  the  un- 
broken forests  of  his  own  remote  domain.  He  had 
come  upon  a  pretty  spot  that  had  once  been  picked 
out  by  an  eccentric  Prince  Paul  of  Wiirtemberg  to 
be  the  retreat  of  his  old  age ;  and,  again,  an  Indian 
reservation,  where  the  wrinkled  old  chief,  Yellow 
Thunder,  squatted  and  sunned  himself  at  his  wigwam 
door,  like  some  archaic  image  in  bronze. 

All  this  he  told  her,  with  a  certain  enthusiasm  and 
a  vivid  way  he  had  of  making  the  most  of  small  de- 
tails when  he  chose  to  exercise  it ;  but  he  did  not  tell 
her  how  much  she  had  filled  his  thoughts  in  the  mean 
time.  Some  notion  of  offering  himself  as  a  medium 
in  effecting  a  reconciliation  between  her  and  her  hus- 
band had  even  floated  vaguely  through  his  brain. 
For  his  part,  he  recollected  Varemberg  as  a  very 


60  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

pleasant  fellow.  Varemberg  had  endeavored,  in  those 
times,  to  he  particularly  civil  to  him;  and  though  he 
could  not  accept  these  overtures,  it  was  a  date  when 
he  had  been  easily  touched  by  kindness,  and  he  cher- 
ished a  grateful  remembrance  of  them.  He  knew 
that  these  domestic  ruptures  are  too  often  but  the 
result  of  some  wretched  misunderstanding,  trivial  in 
the  beginning,  and  widened  to  a  tragic  gulf  by  willful- 
ness and  lack  of  judgment  on  both  sides.  There  were 
such  cases,  at  least,  whether  this  were  one  of  them 
or  not,  and  a  sympathetic  mediator,  acting  with  pru- 
dence, might  do  a  great  deal  towards  repairing  them. 

He  made  bis  first  suggestions,  however,  in  regard 
to  her  health.  Some  remedies  that  had  proved  bene- 
ficial in  cases  rather  like  hers  occurred  to  him,  and  he 
ventured  to  recommend  them  to  her.  He  recom- 
mended also  exercise  ;  he  was  a  great  believer  in  it  on 
his  own  account,  had  always  much  to  say  in  its  favor, 
and  was  inclined  to  regard  motion  as  the  sovereign 
panacea. 

"  If  you  only  keep  moving  actively  enough,"  said 
he,  "  the  reaper  Death,  who  goes  but  a  hobbling  gait 
with  his  scythe,  will  have  a  long  chase,  and  hard 
work  to  catch  up  with  you." 

No  doubt  he  was  rather  unpractical  in  some  of 
his  ideas.  Mrs.  Varemberg  smiled  at  propositions 
offered  by  his  robust  physique  to  hers,  but  she  con- 
ceded somewhat  to  his  theory  by  saying  with  a  cer- 
tain bravado, — 

"  Illness,  after  all,  is  the  only  real  misfortune." 

Barclay  showed  a  considerable  bent  towards  taking 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  61 

charge  of  things,  and  had  the  limit  of  his  proposed 
stay  permitted  he  would  perhaps  have  endeavored  to 
take  charge  of  her,  in  this  particular  direction. 

When  he  came  to  trench,  delicately,  on  the  subject 
of  her  domestic  unhappiness,  she  adhered  to  the  same 
tone  of  audacious  flippancy  she  had  adopted  at  first ; 
she  seemed  to  take  a  perverse  pleasure  in  trying  to 
put  herself  before  him  in  the  worst  possible  light. 

"  By  your  own  showing,"  said  he  lightly,  availing 
himself  of  the  license  she  thus  gave  him,  "  we  must 
admit  you  have  treated  Varemberg  rather  badly." 

"  Of  course  I  have  treated  him  badly.  Has  it  taken 
you  all  this  time  to  arrive  at  that  brilliant  conclu- 
sion?" 

She  was  certainly  amusing  in  this  mood,  if  it  were 
taken  entirely  from  the  worldly  point  of  view,  but 
Barclay  went  away  from  these  interviews  with  doubt 
and  sadness  in  his  heart.  It  was  the  devastation  of 
an  exceptionally  fine  character  that  he  seemed  to 
witness ;  the  searing  over  of  tender  sensibilities,  in 
the  loss  of  which  no  delicate  moral  nature  could  sur- 
vive. 

But  he  was  shortly  to  be  undeceived.  He  sat  on 
one  of  the  cushioned  sofas  in  the  lobby  of  his  hotel, 
where  a  business  acquaintance  had  just  left  him,  and 
was  occupied  with  a  paper,  when  he  heard  himself 
hailed  in  a  hearty  way.  Looking  up,  he  saw  an  old 
acquaintance. 

It  was  Ives  Wilson,  the  chief  editor  of  the  Index. 

Barclay  had  found  cards  of  this  gentleman  left  for 
him  on  two  successive  occasions.  Ives  Wilson  bus- 


62  TIJE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

tied  out  from  a  little  group  standing  by  the  elevator 
shaft,  and  shook  hands  with  him  in  a  vigorous,  pump- 
handle  fashion,  still  keeping  hold  of  the  arm  of  a  third 
party,  whom  he  dragged  forward  with  him,  and  in- 
troduced, as  if  he  did  not  consider  it  fair  to  abandon 
one  friend  without  giving  him  the  advantage  of  the 
acquaintance  of  another.  This  was  Lieutenant  Gregg, 
and  it  seemed  that  he  was  a  regular  boarder  at  this 
same  hotel  when  he  was  ashore.  Lieutenant  Gregg 
was  a  somewhat  awkward,  diffident  man,  not  fluent 
iu  conversation.  He  had  come  up  from  a  low  origin, 
made  his  own  very  good  position  entirely  for  himself, 
and  was  not  as  fully  at  home  in  all  the  minor  social 
observances  as  he  would  no  doubt  finally  become. 
He  stayed  but  a  few  moments,  withdrawing  after 
the  exchange  of  some  sentences  about  the  tugboat 
explosion. 

"  You  had  a  close  call,  that  day,"  said  he  admiringly. 

"  It  would  have  suited  me  much  better  to  make 
my  debut  like  an  ordinary  private  citizen,"  responded 
Barclay. 

"  Well,"  began  Ives  Wilson,  when  Gregg  had  gone, 
"  I  had  about  given  you  up ;  I  never  expected  to  find 
you."  Then,  seating  himself  comfortably,  "A  lit- 
tle different  this  from  old  Andover,  eh  ?  Ton  have 
n't  changed  much,  though.  Here  you  are,  as  large 
as  life  and  twice  as  natural." 

They  had  been  schoolmates,  in  the  remote  past,  at 
one  of  the  large  preparatory  schools  of  New  England, 
arid  might  have  met  once  or  twice  since,  yet  Ives 
Wilson  inclined  to  presume  upon  this  as  if  it  had 
been  friendship  of  the  most  intimate  sort. 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  63 

He  seemed  a  person  so  permeated  with  his  profes- 
sion that  it  showed  all  over  him ;  left  tangible  signs 
upon  him,  just  as  the  shoemaker  has  a  particular 
stoop,  the  hod-carrier  one  shoulder  higher  than  the 
other,  and  the  baker  his  hands  calloused  in  a  certain 
way.  It  was  perhaps  the  great  nervous  energy  by 
which  he  was  characterized  that  had  left  so  little  flesh 
on  his  bones.  He  was  dressed  neither  well  nor  very 
ill.  When  he  took  off  his  easy  felt  hat  you  might 
have  seen  his  hair  bristling  and  awry.  From  the 
apex  of  his  head  waved  back  one  particularly  rebellious 
lock,  which  had  served  as  a  sort  of  oriflamme  in  many 
a  political  convention  and  the  like.  In  other  respects, 
when  you  came  to  know  about  him,  language  seemed 
to  be  for  him  only  an  ingenious  medium  to  juggle 
with ;  the  severest  allegations  had  for  him  no  real 
•and  lasting  significance,  but  only  served  his  tempo- 
rary purpose.  All,  or  nearly  all,  with  him,  was  pro- 
fessional ;  the  individual,  or  private,  aspect  of  his  life 
but  a  very  small  fraction.  He  was  regarded  in  some 
quarters,  whither  his  interference  and  powers  of  in- 
vective had  been  particularly  directed,  as  a  monster 
of  ferocity ;  but  in  reality  nobody  was  less  ferocious 
than  he.  He  would  have  shaken  hands  the  next  mo- 
ment with  the  most  roundly  abused  of  his  opponents, 
had  the  human  nature  in  the  rest  of  the  community 
been  like  his  own.  In  strictly  private  life  he  did 
many  amiable  things,  for  which  he  did  not  always  get 
the  credit  that  was  his  due. 

Paul  Barclay  had  the  standing  interest  in  human 
nature  that  made  him,  up  to  a  certain  point,  well 


64  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

within  the  limits  of  boredom,  an  excellent  listener. 
Added  to  this,  perhaps  unconsciously,  was  the  quest 
for  the  unexpected,  the  possible  novel  revelation, 
from  some  unforeseen  quarter,  that  might  have  a  for- 
tunate bearing  on  his  own  destiny.  He  was  rather 
fond  of  letting  people  exhibit  themselves.  It  was  no 
hardship  for  him,  therefore,  to  let  Ives  Wilson  go  on, 
as  the  latter  was  disposed  to  do.  He  gave  an  ac- 
count of  his  migration  to  the  West,  his  various  strug- 
gles and  successes,  and  his  rise  to  his  present  exalted 
position.  The  history  included  the  late  establish- 
ment of  an  evening  edition  of  the  Index.  "  We  had 
to  give  the  papers  away  at  first,  and  then  go  into  the 
streets  and  buy  them  ourselves,"  said  he ;  "  but  now 
they  go  off  like  hot  cakes." 

He  explained  the  rules  he  bad  adopted  for  the  guid- 
ance of  his  paper,  and  laid  down,  ex  cathedra,  the  im- 
mutable laws  of  journalism. 

"  Always  have  somebody  to  abuse  ;  hit  hard  and 
hit  all  the  time,"  said  he ;  "  have  at  least  one  new 
sensation  every  day.  You,  for  instance,  were  a  god- 
send to  us,  the  day  you  were  all  but  blown  up  by  the 
tug.  Never  back  down  ;  support  the  paradox,  or  the 
unexpected,  —  people  are  sure  to  come  round  to  you 
in  time ;  and  claim  to  be  infallible,"  he  concluded. 

"  If  you  are  going  in  for  infallibility,  why  not  earn 
it  by  avoiding  the  errors  instead  of  glorying  in  them  ?  " 
suggested  Barclay.  "  And  then,  all  this  bragging,  — 
is  it  strictly  necessary  ?  It  sometimes  seems  as  if  a 
newspaper  expected  to  flourish  on  everything  a  gen- 
tleman would  not  want  to  do." 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  65 

"  Good  !  "  exclaimed  Ives  Wilson.  "  There  's  a 
point  in  that  for  our  first  column  paragraphs.  But 
it 's  clear  you  don't  speak  from  practical  experience. 
Readers  expect  a  journal  to  have  a  proper  respect  for 
itself;  and  there  is  nothing  so  fatal  as  backing  down. 
Readers  don't  want  it ;  readers  don't  understand  it ; 
they  won't  have  it.  No,  sir,  the  Index  has  stood 
more  than  one  libel  suit  rather  than  back  down,  and 
it  proposes  to  stand  plenty  more." 

No  one,  apparently,  could  have  been  less  offended 
by  an  onslaught  on  his  favorite  views  than  Ives  Wil- 
son ;  on  the  contrary,  he  welcomed  it  with  jovial 
cheerfulness,  and  made  a  hasty  note  of  it,  as  above, 
for  use  in  his  paper. 

"  If  any  of  our  men  could  have  found  you  in  time, 
the  day  of  your  arrival,  we  should  have  had  at  least 
a  half  column  more  about  the  accident,  —  an  inter- 
view, you  know." 

"  Oh,  I  assure  you,  I  am  quite  as  well  content." 

"  You  may,  or  may  not,  have  noticed  how  well  that 
report  was  done,"  continued  the  editor,  airing  a  tech- 
nical pride ;  "  how  spreadingly,  if  I  may  coin  a  word, 
and  how  fully,  for  an  afternoon  paper.  A  few  more 
little  things  like  that  will  put  the  evening  edition 
where  we  want  it.  It  was  a  big  '  scoop '  even  on  the 
morning  papers.  The  full  reprint  we  gave  of  all  the 
particulars  connected  with  your  father's  death  left 
them  hardly  anything  to  say.  All  they  could  do  was 
copy  from  us.  It  gave  me  a  chance,  too,  to  put  in 
a  good  word  for  a  man  that  I  always  like  to  oblige 
when  it  comes  in  my  way,  —  David  Lane.  He 


66  TEE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

showed  up  well  in  that  affair,  trying  to  work  the 
bridge,  and  so  on,  and  I  guess  he  was  glad  to  have 
us  remember  it.  They  say  the  Index  is  hard  on  its 
enemies ;  well,  it 's  good  to  its  friends,  whenever  they 
give  it  an  opportunity." 

"  David  Lane  is  fortunate,  as  a  politician,  to  stand 
so  well  with  the  press,"  said  Barclay  tentatively. 

"  Oh,  if  /  had  money,  /  'd  have  a  reputation  from 
here  to  Timbuctoo.  I  'd  just  lay  out  a  little  sum  an- 
nually on  the  papers,  —  liberal  advertising,  special 
articles,  and  that  sort  of  thing,  —  and  they  'd  look 
after  me  ;  see  ?  It  need  n't  cost  a  great  deal,  either. 
But  this  is  not  a  case  in  point.  Lane  is  not  in  poli- 
tics now  ;  he  's  had  the  best  of  everything,  and  there 
is  n't  anything  else  that  could  tempt  him.  Besides, 
he  has  a  genuine  record,  that  does  n't  need  any  puff- 
ing ;  he  was  one  of  the  best  officials  ever  known  in 
these  parts."' 

"  And  it  is  on  his  own  merits  you  praise  him  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  because  he  gave  me  a  lift  when  I  was 
starting  in  the  management  of  the  paper.  I  don't 
mind  telling  you  that  he  held  stock  in  my  name,  so  I 
could  control  the  leading  interest.  Oh,  yes,  the  In- 
dex stands  by  David  Lane,  every  time." 

The  editor  discoursed  further  of  his  patron,  touched 
lightly  on  the  business  matters  with  which  he  occu- 
pied himself  now  that  he  was  out  of  public  life,  and 
finally  of  Mrs.  Varemberg.  Barclay  had  felt,  with 
inward  agitation,  that  this  topic  was  approaching. 

•'  Here  is  a  man,"  he  had  reflected,  "  who,  with  the 
least  encouragement  in  the  world,  will  speak  freely  of 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  67 

her.  It  is  his  business  to  be  a  repository  of  informa- 
tion, and  he  will  know  all  that  has  been  said  and  all 
that  can  be  known  about  her." 

Up  to  this  time  he  had  learned  no  more  of  her 
affairs  than  on  the  first  day  of  his  arrival ;  he  had 
asked  no  one  about  her,  sought  no  information,  but, 
on  the  contrary,  scrupulously  refrained  from  it.  He 
shrank  from  discussing  her  sorrows  with  an  outsider 
almost  as  a  species  of  desecration,  and  how  much 
more  so  when  it  promised  but  to  make  a  certainty  of 
the  vague,  disagreeable  imputations  she  had  cast  upon 
herself  !  His  way  of  thinking  had  not  changed,  but 
now,  as  in  a  sort  of  spell,  he  sat  and  listened  to  com- 
ments nonchalantly  volunteered  without  a  word  of  in- 
vitation from  himself,  and  even  against  an  effort  he 
made  to  turn  them  aside. 

"  His  daughter,  Mrs.  Varemberg,  is  a  mighty  fine 
woman,  a  lovely  woman  ;  she  is  one  that  was  born 
to  shine,"  said  Ives  Wilson.  "  It 's  a  pity  all  this 
trouble  of  hers  seems  to  keep  her  from  taking  the 
place  that  rightfully  belongs  to  her." 

Upon  a  word  or  two  further,  the  early  reluctance 
of  the  listener  was  turned  to  an  eager  thirst  for  en- 
lightenment. It  proved  to  be  no  tale  of  cynical 
heartlessness  he  was  called  upon  to  hear,  but  one 
that  had  imposed  a  tone  of  sympathy  and  respect 
even  upon  the  careless  tongue  of  public  gossip. 

"  Her  husband  was  one  of  the  greatest  villains 
unhung,"  said  Ives  Wilson.  "  Lane  told  me  a  little 
about  it,  at  the  time,  but  it  was  naturally  a  subject  on 
which  he  would  n't  want  to  talk  much." 


G8  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

"  And  Varemberg  treated  her  badly  ?  " 

"  He  did  pretty  much  everything  but  kill  her  out- 
right." 

"  That  polished,  entertaining  Varemberg  ?  "  mut- 
tered Barclay,  in  wonderment ;  but  the  other  went 
on,  not  heeding  him. 

"  He  had  a  devilish  disposition  that  you  would  n't 
find  again  in  a  million  times.  He  had  made  a  very 
plausible  show  in  the  beginning,  it  seems,  but  he  soon 
dropped  that,  and  went  from  bad  to  worse,  till  there 
was  no  living  with  him." 

"  I  had  a  vague  impression,  from  st>me  source,  that 
—  that  the  difficulty  was  of  a  financial  sort." 

"Varemberg  never  had  any  money  to  speak  of; 
he  was  tangled  up  in  every  direction,  and  relied  upon 
what  he  got  with  her  to  straighten  him  out  a  little. 
When  he  had  made  away  with  that,  he  took  to  reck- 
less courses  that  got  him  into  trouble,  —  put  other 
people's  signatures  to  paper,  —  and  finally  had  to 
leave  his  country  for  his  country's  good.  He  dropped 
out  of  sight  entirely,  and  at  one  time  they  thought 
he  was  dead ;  but  he  turns  up  again  every  once  in  a 
while,  and  whenever  they  hear  of  him  it  is  in  some 
new  deviltry." 

"  He  does  not  dare  come  here  ?  "  And  the  ques- 
tioner's eye  flashed  fire. 

"  Oh,  no,  that  would  be  a  little  too  brazen  ;  he 
would  hardly  try  that,  I  think,  where  she  is  so  well 
protected.  Added  to  which,  he  has  nothing  to  gain 
by  it." 

"  It  was  not  she  who  left  him,  then  ?  " 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  69 

"  Very  far  from  it.  As  I  have  said,  he  ran  away ; 
he  left  her  behind  him,  the  prey  of  his  angry  credit- 
ors, in  a  gloomy  old  rookery  of  a  chateau.  She  was 
moping  herself  to  death,  when  her  father  came  and 
took  her  away.  She  was  ashamed  of  her  situation 
and  tried  to  conceal  it,  and  it  was  more  by  accident 
than  her  own  disclosure  that  it  got  out.  I  happened 
to  see  her  when  she  first  got  home ;  you  would  hardly 
have  expected  her  to  live  a  month." 

"  I  suppose  there  are  divorce  proceedings  pend- 
ing ?  "  threw  out  Paul  Barclay  in  a  nonchalant  way. 

"  Why,  no,  not  at  all ;  and  it 's  singular,  too,  when 
you  come  to  think  about  it.  They  say  she  does  n't 
believe  in  it ;  they  say  she  'd  stand  almost  anything 
rather  than  resort  to  that." 

"  Oh  !  " 

"  Bah  !  life  is  too  short  not  to  take  advantage  of 
all  the  opportunities  it  affords.  I  wish  it  were  my 
say  whether  a  divorce  should  be  got  or  not,  —  that 's 
all,"  concluded  the  editor  vigorously. 

In  the  course  of  this  talk,  Ives  Wilson  asked  Bar- 
clay questions,  in  a  casual  way,  on  a  variety  of  sub- 
jects, to  which  replies  were  as  easily  returned.  All 
was  grist  that  came  to  the  journalistic  mill,  and  most 
of  this  appeared  in  next  day's  Index,  in  the  form  of 
the  conventional  "interview."  It  was  meant  to  be, 
and  no  doubt  was,  a  considerable  tribute  to  Barclay's 
importance.  It  was  written  in  the  form  of  question 
and  answer.  He  was  represented  as  a  world-wide 
traveler,  an  Eastern  capitalist,  temporarily  sojourn- 
ing at  the  Telson  House.  His  views  of  Keewaydin 


70  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

and  the  State  were  given.  He  was  made  -to  speak  in 
a  very  eulogistic  way  of  Keewaydin,  and  to  foresee 
a  grand  future  for  it.  And  finally  — this  thrown  in 
quite  gratuitously  —  he  was  said  to  favor  the  Index's 
candidate  for  governor. 

Barclay  next  brought  up  the  name  of  Mrs.  Varem- 
berg  before  his  relatives  the  Thornbrooks,  and  led 
them,  as  discreetly  as  possible,  to  speak  of  her.  With 
beating  heart  he  listened  to  what  they  could  recall  of 
her  history.  They  spoke  in  a  sedate  and  measured 
way,  with  the  cool  pulses  of  their  age,  and  their  feel- 
ing, as  far  as  they  understood  the  case,  was  wholly 
in  her  favor. 

It  happened  that  there  came  in,  the  same  evening, 
still  another  person,  who  added  emphatic  testimony 
of  the  same  kind.  This  was  Mrs.  Miltimorc,  the 
principal  of  the  seat  of  learning  locally  esteemed  of 
an  august  character,  the  Keewaydiu  Female  Insti- 
tute. Old  Mr.  Thornbrook,  it  appeared,  was  the 
president  of  its  board  of  trustees. 

"  Florence  Varemberg,  or  Florence  Lane,"  said 
this  lady,  turning  to  Barclay,  with  a  certain  stiff  man- 
ner of  her  calling,  "  was  our  favorite  pupil  and  a 
great  credit  to  us,  in  her  time.  She  was  a  lovely 
character,  —  as  lovely  in  mind  as  in  person  ;  and  no 
matter  what  may  happen,  I  never  have  believed,  and 
never  shall  believe,  anything  ill  of  her." 

"  The  separation,  then,  is  not  to  be  regarded  as  her 
own  fault  ?  " 

"Her  own  fault?  If  there  ever  was  a  cruelly 
wronged  woman  in  the  world,  it  is  Florence  Varem- 
berg." 


THE    GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  71 

With  how  different  a  feeling  did  Barclay  now  has- 
ten back  to  the  object  of  his  interest.  How  callow 
and  besotted  must  he  be,  how  prone  to  bad  motives 
himself,  since  he  was  so  ready  to  credit  them  in  oth- 
ers !  He  had  been  all  but  persuaded  of  the  truth  of 
her  assumed  venality  and  heartlessness.  He  looked 
at  her  with  new  eyes,  but  carefully  refrained  from 
any  change  in  his  manner  that  should  betray  to  her 
the  new  light  of  which  he  was  in  possession. 

They  made  two  or  three  brief  excursions  together, 
about  the  town  and  environs.  Mrs.  Varemberg  drove 
him  in  her  own  phaeton.  She  assumed  the  duty  of 
hospitality. 

"  You  are  the  stranger  within  our  gates,"  said  she, 
"  and,  in  my  father's  absence,  I  must  see  that  you  are 
not  neglected.  You  must  be  shown  the  points  of 
view  on  which  Keewaydin  rests  her  claim  to  emi- 
nence." 

She  had  a  pair  of  large,  well-broken  horses,  Castor 
and  Pollux,  in  whom  she  took  a  friendly  interest,  as 
she  seemed  to  do  in  pets  of  almost  any  kind.  Cas- 
tor and  Pollux  were  fortunate  enough  to  have  a  per- 
sonal visit  from  her  sometimes  in  their  stable,  and 
she, had  them  brought  to  her  nearly  every  day,  and 
daintily  fed  them  lumps  of  sugar,  from  the  porch,  with 
her  own  hand. 

She  drove  Barclay  first  to  a  little  park,  a  grassy 
esplanade,  on  the  margin  of  the  more  fashionable  res- 
idence part  of  the  town,  with  steep,  neatly  turfed 
bank  extending  down  to  the  water's  edge.  It  af- 
forded a  most  charming  prospect,  with  a  great  sense 


72  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

of  openness  and  light,  over  the  wide  expanse  of  Lake 
Michigan.  Keewaydin  was  seen,  hence,  to  spread 
out  thickly  along  the  central  shore  of  a  great  bay, 
curved  like  a  not  too  tautly  bent  bow.  There  were 
the  two  long  breakwater  piers,  with  their  small  light- 
houses on  the  ends.  High  on  the  bluff,  far  to  the 
northward,  was  a  larger  light-house,  and  behind  it 
the  great  green  slope  of  a  reservoir,  resembling  a  for- 
tification. Southward,  the  most  prominent  feature, 
amid  thick-clustering  roofs,  was  the  shining  tin  spires 
of  the  Polish  church  of  St.  Stanislaus.  Then,  details 
fading  into  indefmiteness,  and  long  lines  of  black 
smoke  drifting  seaward  from  the  blast-furnaces  of 
the  suburb  of  Bay  View. 

"  It  is  magnificent,  magnificent !  "  pronounced  the 
young  man,  drawing  a  deep  breath  of  satisfaction  at 
the  sight.  "  Here  is  a  place  to  exclaim,  like  the 
Greeks  of  old  Xenophon,  '  Thalatta!  thalatta!'.  It 
is  very  like  the  sea,  your  lake." 

"  But  more  cruel  and  treacherous,  somehow ;  we 
live  by  it,  but  never  seem  to  get  very  well  acquainted 
with  it.  A  man  could  be  chilled  to  death,  in  its  cold 
waters,  even  in  midsummer." 

"  Are  you  not  going  to  astonish  me  with  some  state- 
ments about  the  place  where  we  now  stand  having 
lately  been  a  howling  wilderness  ?  I  have  been  led 
to  suppose  that  was  the  Western  custom,  and  I  miss 
it." 

"  The  place  where  we  now  stand  was  all  simple 
bluff,  and  forest,  and  tamarack  swamp,  say  thirty 
or  forty  years  ago.  A  hardy  French  trapper  came 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  73 

along  and  built  a  block-house  here,  to  trade  peltries 
with  the  Indians,  and  —  behold  Keewaydin  !  " 

"  And  he  married  the  Indian  princess,  of  course, 
the  last  of  her  race  ?  " 

"No,  the  engagement  must  have  been  broken  off. 
Princess  Pearl  Feather  came  to  make  a  very  unro- 
mantic  figure  about  the  streets  of  Keewaydin,  in  her 
last  days ;  she  took  to  drink  and  died  in  the  county 
poor-house." 

"  Alas,  our  fond  illusions  !  .But  I  don't  quite  be- 
lieve this  is  real,  you  know,"  he  went  on  ;  "  it  may 
give  us  the  slip.  To  one  accustomed  to  the  Eastern 
way,  a  city  like  this,  solidly  built  as  it  appears,  is 
suspiciously  like  Jonah's  gourd.  At  the  East  it  takes 
the  procession  a  couple  of  hundred  years  to  pass  a 
given  point,  as  it  were,  and  then  it  never  reaches  it." 

"  Will  you  believe  there  were  once  such  fierce 
jealousies  between  the  different  divisions  of  the  town 
that  the  West  Side  cut  down  the  only  bridge  unit- 
ing it  with  the  East  Side,  and  planted  a  cannon  to 
prevent  its  being  rebuilt  ?  " 

"  I  will  try  and  do  so,  for  this  once,  if  you  will 
tell  me  further  what  it  was  all  about." 

"  They  thought  there  never  could  be  settlers  enough 
for  both,  and,  as  the  boat  from  Buffalo  landed  on  their 
side,  they  wanted  to  keep  a  monopoly  of  the  new  ar- 
rivals." 

But  now  the  thriving  city  stretched  for  long  miles 
on  either  side  of  its  petty  dividing  stream,  which 
seemed  a  mere  canal.  The  once  envious  West  Side 
climbed,  in  long  lines  of  compact  streets,  to  a  consid- 


74  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

erable  rising  ground.  Our  friends  mounted  thither, 
and  looked  back  from  the  heights  at  the  spires  of  the 
section  they  had  left,  —  the  dome  of  the  city  hall, 
with  its  figure,  most  prominent  among  them,  —  cut 
out  in  a  strongly  serrated  edge  against  the  lake,  which 
gleamed  behind  them  like  a  strip  of  silver.  On  their 
return,  they  came  to  the  city  hall,  in  its  quiet,  grassy 
square. 

"Here  is  our  Plaza, —  Place  d'Armes,  —  Piazza, 
—  the  focus  of  the  civic  life  of  a  mighty  past  of  thirty- 
five  years,"  said  Mrs.  Varemberg,  in  lively  travesty 
of  the  descriptions  of  foreign  market-places. 

"  I  know  it  already ;  the  Thornbrooks  live  over 
there,"  said  Barclay.  Pie  indicated,  with  a  gesture, 
a  large,  comfortable-looking  house,  with  a  consider- 
able space  of  door-yard  before  it.  "  But  as  to  tradi- 
tions, associations,  is  n't  it  really  heart-breaking,  now, 
that  the  central  square  of  a  populace  of  more  than  one 
hundred  thousand  souls,  should  be  utterly  without 
them,  —  absolutely  unworthy  of  interest  ?" 

"It  is  true  that  no  counts  Egmont  and  Horn  have 
been  beheaded  here,  nor  any  Mark  Antonys,  Rieuzis, 
or  Van  Arteveldes  aroused  sedition  by  their  stirring 
harangues,"  replied  his  companion,  in  the  same  lively 
vein ;  "  but  our  best  people  cross  the  square,  the 
most  influential  ladies  of  the  Seventh  Ward  traverse 
it  to  do  their  shopping,  and  our  most  eminent  store- 
keepers to  and  from  their  dinners  in  the  middle  of  the 
day.  What  can  you  have  more  worthy,  more  thor- 
oughly American,  than  that?" 

"Are  we  to  decide  that  interest  in  tradition  is  a 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  75 

form  of  entertainment  entirely  gone  out,  and  to  look 
for  something  else  to  take  the  place  of  it?  Perhaps 
something  in  the  way  of  ornamental  effects,  buildings, 
and  so  on,  finer  than  any  that  have  yet  been  seen, 
will  ultimately  be  substituted.  The  worst  of  it  is  that 
we  not  only  have  no  traditions,  but  are  not  even  in 
process  of  forming  them.  Day  after  day  passes  over 
this  grassy  square,  and  what  does  it  add,  in  that  re- 
spect ?  Not  an  iota,  not  a  hair's  breadth,  of  romance. 
If  there  were  only  some  weird,  remarkable  story, 
even  of  modern  date,  hanging  about  it,  —  that  would 
be  something  to  be  thankful  for." 

"  A  weird,  remarkable  story  hanging  about  an 
American  city  hall  ?  That  would  be  rather  too  much 
to  expect." 

"  Come,  there  might  be  a  worse  scene  for  some- 
thing romantic  even  than  this,"  maintained  Barclay. 
Their  conveyance  was  now  proceeding  very  slowly. 
"  That  Mexican-looking  cathedral,  over  there,  is  n't 
so  bad,  as  an  accessory,  and  trees  and  shrubbery 
are  always  good;  and  then  the  city  hall  itself  has 
its  good  points,  —  first  among  which  /am  inclined  to 
put  the  Golden  Justice,  up  there  on  her  dome.  Do 
you  know,  I  have  taken  quite  a  fancy  to  the  Golden 
Justice." 

"  Have  you,  indeed  ?  You  would  little  guess  whose 
head  she  has  on  her  shoulders,  whose  likeness  she  is 
supposed  to  present." 

"  The  French  trapper,"  he  replied,  promptly. 

"  Nonsense." 

"  Pearl  Feather,  then." 


76  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

She  looked  at  him  reproachfully,  and  affected  to 
move  her  own  profile  this  way  and  that,  as  if  to  throw 
it  into  greater  relief,  for  his  inspection. 

"  It  is  so  far  off  —  Surely  not  you  ?  "  said  he, 
looking  inquiringly  from  the  fair  model,  who  thus 
offered  herself  to  view,  up  to  the  image,  glinting  re- 
splendent and  yellow  in  the  soft,  hazy  autumn  atmos- 
phere, and  then  looking  back  again.  The  Golden 
Justice  appeared  like  some  visitant  from  a  celestial 
sphere,  new  lighted  on  the  heaven-kissing  dome. 

"  I  suppose  it  might  be  called  a  distant  resem- 
blance, from  here,  but  it  was  meant  for  me,  never- 
theless." 

"  It  dazzles  me  so,  —  but  that  is  only  the  more 
like  the  original.  I  shall  verify  it  at  the  first  oppor- 
tunity with  a  field-glass.  And  so  it  was  modeled 
after  you  ?  " 

"  It  is  a  long  story." 

"  The  longer  the  better,  since  you  are  to  tell  it." 

"  Oh.  if  you  take  it  in  that  amiable  way,  I  will  cut 
it  very  short." 

They  had  come  to  a  stand-still  for  a  few  moments, 
and  now  drove  on  again. 

"  The  Golden  Justice,"  she  began,  "  was  a  prolific 
source  of  discord  in  its  early  stages.  It  was  like  the 
wooden  horse  of  Troy.  Dissensions  commenced  over 
her  that  have  scarcely  died  out  even  yet." 

"  And  how  could  that  have  been  ?  " 

"  The  contest  in  the  first  place  was  as  to  what  the 
subject  of  the  statue  should  be.  The  early  pioneer, 
the  French  trapper,  was  proposed.  With  his  rifle  and 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  77 

hatchet  and  his  costume  of  fringed  deer-skin,  you  see, 
he  would  have  done  very  well." 

"  Ah,  I  was  not  as  stupid  as  it  appeared." 

"  But  other  pioneers  had  claims  also.  The  question 
of  race  came  up,  and  it  was  held,  by  zealous  parti- 
sans, that  the  first  German,  Irish,  and  purely  Ameri- 
can pioneers  had  as  good  a  right  to  the  place  as  he. 
Still  another  party  supported  Pearl  Feather." 

"Why,  I  was  divination  itself!"  protested  Bar- 
clay. 

The  narrator  smiled,  indulgently.  "This  party 
threw  a  romantic  light  around  Pearl  Feather.  It  was 
chiefly  a  committee  of  ladies,  with  Mrs.  Rantoul,  our 
leading  strong-minded  agitator,  at  their  head.  They 
thought  it  would  be  an  additional  step  towards  vin- 
dicating the  true  position  of  woman,  to  have  a  fem- 
inine statue.  Bear  in  mind,  also,  that  there  was  a 
South  Side  party,  which  wanted  no  statue  at  all,  be- 
cause it  could  not  be  well  seen  from  that  part  of  the 
town ;  and  lastly,  a  party  of  economy,  that  begrudged 
the  expense." 

"  I  begin  to  see,"  said  Barclay. 

"  Oh,  no ;  you  may  think  so,  but  you  don't  half 
begin  to  see  yet.  The  question  of  nationality  came 
up  in  connection  with  the  choice  of  the  sculptor,  or 
designer,  of  the  figure,  and  then  of  those  who  were  to 
have  the  contracts  for  casting  and  setting  up  the  work. 
The  local  residence  of  these  persons  and  the  relative 
advantage  to  be  gained  by  the  different  sections  were 
next  considered.  The  South  Side  would  have  had 
the  casting  sent  abroad,  to  be  done  at  Munich,  be- 


78  TDE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

cause  it  had  no  foundry  of  its  own,  but  the  West  Side 
had  one,  and  secured  it.  You  must  get  my  father 
to  tell  you  about  the  effect  in  the  elections,  and  the 
like." 

"  It  is  more  like  the  history  of  a  Bellona,  goddess 
of  strife,  than  of  a  peaceful  Justice." 

"  The  Justice  was  a  compromise.  There  are  law- 
courts  in  the  building,  so  it  is  appropriate.  And  it  is 
conventional  and  safe.  Just  then  a  young  sculptor 
happened  to  arrive  from  abroad,  on  a  visit.  You  may 
remember  him,  —  Schwartzmann.  He  used  to  come 
to  our  house,  sometimes,  in  Paris." 

"  Schwartzmann  ?  I  remember  him  very  well.  I 
have  been  at  his  studio  in  the  Rue  d'Enfer.  He  has 
done  some  first-rate  work." 

"  Well,  he  did  this.  He  was  looked  upon  as  a  prod- 
uct of  home  manufacture,  and  got  the  order.  My 
father  had  helped  him  to  go  abroad  and  prosecute  his 
studies,  and  out  of  gratitude  he  wanted  to  make  a 
bust  of  my  humble  self.  Of  course  I  was  only  too 
delighted.  At  that  age  —  for  you  must  remember 
that  this  was  at  an  early  date  —  a  provincial  young 
woman,  who  had  seen  little  or  nothing  of  the  fine 
arts  of  any  sort,  would  naturally  be  taken  by  the 
idea  of  having  her  poor  features  put  in  monumental 
form." 

Barclay  recollected  a  winning  unconsciousness  of 
her  own  loveliness,  even  in  its  brightest  day,  as  one 
of  her  greatest  charms. 

"  But  this  Schwartzmann  was  an  original  sort  of 
person,"  she  continued. 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  79 

"  I  recollect  him,  myself,  in  connection  with  some 
cranky  doings." 

"  He  prepared  for  us  a  surprise,  which  he  intended 
as  an  extraordinary  compliment.  What  do  you  think 
it  was  ?  From  the  study  he  had  made  of  my  head 
he  modeled  that  of  his  statue,  and  added  more  or  less 
of  my  figure.  He  let  no  one  know  till  it  was  com- 
plete and  set  in  its  place,  and  then  triumphantly 
called  upon  us  to  observe  the  distinguished  honor  he 
had  paid  me  in  raising  me  thus  aloft,  six  times  as 
large  as  life,  a  couple  of  hundred  feet  above  the  pave- 
ment. Neither  my  father  nor  any  others  had  made 
the  discovery ;  most  people  are  very  unobservant 
abouf  such  things,  unless  their  attention  is  especially 
called  to  them." 

"  I,  for  one,  feel  greatly  obliged  to  your  original 
sculptor  for  his  pretty  idea." 

"  My  father  did  not  by  any  means  take  it  so  amia- 
bly. He  was  angry  at  Schwartzmann  for  not  having 
consulted  him,  and  would  have  nothing  to  do  with 
him  for  a  good  while  afterwards.  I  was  not  quite 
sure,  myself,  that  I  liked  being  exalted  so  conspicu- 
ously before  high  heaven ;  but  when  I  came  to  see 
how  little  attention  was  paid  to  the  matter  of  the 
likeness  by  anybody  else,  I  became  reconciled,  and 
duly  appreciative  of  the  honor." 

"  My  interest  in  the  Golden  Justice  is  at  last  in- 
telligible," said  Barclay. 

"  I  suppose  you  are  going  to  gallantly  pretend  that 
you  knew  this  all  the  time?" 

"  Not  at  all,  but  I  assure  you  there  has  been  a  cer- 
tain rapport  between  us  from  the  first." 


80  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

The  statue  with  its  surroundings  was  by  this  time 
well  behind  them.  They  followed  the  sylvan  upper 
reaches  of  the  Keewaydin  River,  favored  of  swim- 
mers and  the  light  skiffs  of  merry-makers  in  the 
pleasant  summer  time  ;  thence,  by  a  winding  road, 
through  the  rich  autumn  woods,  full  of  the  pensive- 
ness  of  the  season ;  and  struck  the  lake  again,  a  con- 
siderable distance  above  the  city,  at  a  charming  cove 
and  fishing -station  known  as  the  Whitefish  Bay. 
They  stopped  a  little  at  this  place,  to  watch  the  fish- 
ermen drawing  their  nets.  The  water  was  placid 
and  silvery,  and  the  fish  leaped  in  it,  as  the  seines 
shoaled  under  them,  and  turned  their  pink  and  silver 
sides  to  the  light. 

The  air  was  impregnated  with  a  peculiar  smoki- 
ness  and  fragrant  smell  of  burning  said  to  come  from 
distant  forest  fires.  Indeed,  that  season  the  forest 
fires  to  the  northward  had  destroyed  a  populous 
town,  and  burned  to  death  many  of  its  inhabitants, 
while  standing  up  to  their  chins  in  the  river,  to  which 
they  had  fled  for  refuge.  The  road  homeward  lay 
along  the  line  of  the  bluffs.  In  the  fields  the  corn 
was  bivouacked  in  russet  sheaves,  while  at  the  door 
of  every  tent,  like  a  goblin  sentinel,  squatted  a  yel- 
low pumpkin.  On  the  other  side  stretched  out  the 
lake,  azure  blue  and  boundless  as  the  ocean,  veiled 
by  scattering,  thin-stemmed  trees,  with  foliage  exqui- 
sitely dyed. 

"  In  one  particular  you  are  not  in  the  least  like 
the  Golden  Justice,"  said  Barclay,  returning  again  to 
this  subject. 


TUE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  81 

"  So  much  the  worse  for  her,  then  ;  statues  should 
resemble  models,  not  models  statues." 

"  Why  are  you,  who  serve  as  the  emblem  of  jus- 
tice to  others,  so  unjust  to  yourself  ?  " 

"  It  was  not  I  who  assumed  the  post  of  emblem, 
remember ;  it  was  an  accident.  No  one  who'  knew 
would  ever  have  chosen  me." 

"  Ah,  no,  you  are  better  than  that.  I  knew  it,  I 
knew  it ;  I  did  not  believe  it,"  he  protested  strongly. 
"  I  have  at  last  heard  the  other  side  of  your  story." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  What  have  you  heard  ?  " 
she  demanded,  turning  towards  him,  startled  and 
flushed. 

"  That  you  have  suffered  innocently,  with  a  heroic 
fortitude  ;  that  your  career  has  been  a  cruel  martyr- 
dom." 

"  Let  me  hear  no  praises,  no  compliments,  on  that 
score,  I  beg  of  you.  I  scarcely  know  what  I  did. 
It  has  all  passed,  like  a  troubled  dream.  But  you 
speak  of  your  discovery- as  something  recent;  is  it 
possible  that  you  did  not  know  of  this  —  of  all  this 
before  ?  " 

"  Only  in  the  vaguest  mention,  on  the  first  day  of 
my  arrival.  Nor  do  I  now  know  any  of  the  details. 
I  did  not  wish  to  talk  with  others  about  you  ;  it 
seemed  an  irreverence,  a  profanation.  And  then,  you 
had  almost  made  me  afraid  to  ask.  You  had  almost 
made  me  think —  Why  did  you  delight  to  so  mis- 
represent yourself?  " 

"  It  is  a  way  we  women  of  the  world  have  of  talk- 
ing," she  replied,  with  a  hollow  gayety. 


S'J  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

•'Was  it  quite  fair?"  he  urged,  gently.  "We 
were  friends  once ;  you  might  have  trusted  me  a  lit- 
tle more.  Instead  of  sympathy,  you  tried  to  ex- 
cite "  — 

"  Did  I  want  sympathy  ?  No,  I  will  not  have  it," 
she  interrupted,  almost  fiercely.  "  Do  you  suppose  I 
am  not  ashamed  to  think  of  what  is  passing  in  the 
minds  of  all  those  who  used  to  know  me  ?  And  I 
thought  you  knew  ;  I  thought  I  had  been  the  gossip 
of  two  hemispheres."  Then,  in  a  sudden  revulsion 
of  feeling,  with  tears  starting  to  her  eyes,  which  she 
vainly  turned  away  to  hide,  "  Ah,  what  a  life  !  what 
a  fate  !  And  I  who  had  expected  so  much  !  " 

They  were  again  in  the  streets  of  the  town.  Bar- 
clay saw  that,  with  the  best  intentions  in  the  world, 
he  had  struck  a  false  note.  They  remained  silent  a 
while,  then  spoke  of  indifferent  things,  and  were  pres- 
ently at  her  own  door. 

So  far  from  being  an  absolute  recluse,  Barclay 
found  that  Mrs.  Varemberg  showed  in  many  ways  a 
feverish  activity.  She  drove  about  on  charitable  er- 
rands, visited  her  father's  industrial  schools,  and  took 
a  certain  oversight  of  his  public  library.  At  parting, 
on  this  day,  she  said  she  had  charge  of  preparing  a 
somewhat  better  exhibit  than  usual  for  the  "  art  de- 
partment "  of  a  state  fair,  which  was  about  to  hold 
its  annual  session  on  its  grounds  in  the  western  out- 
skirts of  the  city. 

"  I  am  to  go  there  to-morrow,"  she  said.  "  Would 
it  interest  you  to  accompany  me,  and  see  what  a  state 
fair  is  like  ?  " 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  83 

"  Nothing  would  interest  me  more  than  to  see  what 
a  state  fair  is  like,"  he  responded. 

So  a  new  appointment  was  made  between  them 
for  an  early  hour  the  next  afternoon. 


V. 

I 

A  NEW  PARTNER  AT  BARCLAY'S  ISLAND. 

WHEN  Paul  Barclay  went  to  keep  his  appointment 
for  the  State  Fair,  he  met  in  the  porch  of  the  house 
a  young  girl,  of  modest  appearance,  just  taking  her 
leave  of  Mrs.  Varemberg.  The  girl  wore  a  long, 
dark  cloth  coat,  of  a  kind  in  vogue  with  the  shop- 
women  of  the  day,  fitting  closely  to  a  trim  figure. 
From  beneath  a  round  hat  projected,  in  front,  a  fluff 
of  strongly  growing,  dark  hair,  and  she  had  a  smooth, 
olive  complexion  and  a  pair  of  hazel  eyes,  demurely 
bright. 

"  I  thank  you  so  very  much,  Mrs.  Varemberg," 
Barclay  heard  her  say,  in  a  voice  with  a  trace  of  for- 
eign accent. 

"  This  is  our  little  friend  Stanislava  Zelinsky, 
from  the  Polish  settlement,"  said  the  lady,  present- 
ing the  visitor. 

Barclay  touched  his  hat  to  her.  He  had  seen 
something  of  her  country  and  its  people,  and  recol- 
lections drawn  from  his  travels  would  have  enlisted 
his  interest,  even  had  her  being  Mrs.  Varemberg's 
protegee  with  her  own  pretty  face,  not  sufficed.  She 
made  a  timid  response  to  his  bow. 

"  Stanislava  has  many  accomplishments,"  contin- 
ued her  patroness ;  "  she  is  never  idle.  Besides  do- 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  85 

ing  all  kinds  of  house-work,  she  can  embroider,  paint 
flowers,  play  the  church  organ,  and  has  a  most  excel- 
lent handwriting.  Have  you  not  a  beautiful  hand- 
writing, Stanislava  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  don't  know.  They  get  me  to  write  the 
books  of  the  Polish  Benevolent  Society,  though, 
what  keeps  the  names  of  all  the  families  in  the 
church,"  replied  the  girl,  half  disclaiming  yet  accept- 
ing the  eulogy. 

"  And  how  do  they  get  on  now  at  the  church  ?  It 
seems  to  me  they  are  not  always  as  amiable,  down 
there,  as  they  ought  to  be." 

She  referred,  no  doubt,  to  a  late  disturbance,  in 
which  the  schoolmaster,  the  leading  trader,  the  pas- 
tor, and  the  militia  organization  known  as  the  Sobi- 
eski  Guards  had  all  been  mixed  up  in  a  confused 
combat  that  had  not  been  straightened  out  even  at 
the  police  court  itself,  to  which  it  had  come  as  a  last 
resort. 

"  Oh,  that  was  mostly  the  Warsaw  men  and  the 
Cracow  men,"  said  Stanislava,  referring  to  some  an- 
cient feud  of  locality,  like  that  of  Cork  and  Kerry 
among  the  Irish. 

"  Pronounce  your  pretty  name  for  us,"  said  Mrs. 
Varemberg. 

The  girl  did  so,  in  a  very  soft  and  pleasing  way. 
Being  urged,  she  followed  with  a  few  further  expres- 
sions in  the  speech  of  her  fatherland. 

"  How  charming  !  You  must  give  us  lessons  in 
the  Polish  language,"  said' Barclay,  playfully. 

"No  American  person  wants  to  know  the  Polander 


86  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

lan<nia<ie;"  and  she  showed  her  fine  white  teeth  iu  a 

o        o      * 

smile  at  the  exquisite  absurdity  of  his  idea. 

When  she  had  gone  and  they  were  in  the  carriage, 
Mrs.  Varemberg  explained  :  "  She  is  the  child  of  the 
bridge-tender  who  was  killed  at  the  same  time  my 
father  received  his  own  injuries.  He  has  had  a  fancy 
to  look  after  her  ever  since." 

A  decidedly  new  touch  of  interest  was  added  by 
this  to  what  Barclay  had  already  shown.  He  won- 
dered,1 as  he  had  often  wondered  before,  and  was  on 
the  point  of  saying  aloud :  — 

"  Why  was  not  this  motive  a  source  of  equal  con- 
sideration, on  David  Lane's  part,  for  me  ?  " 

"  She  has  just  come  to  me  on  a  rather  singular  er- 
rand. She  has  arrived  at  her  eighteenth  birthday, 
and  for  the  first  time  has  begun  to  be  troubled  with 
compunctions  about  the  money  she  receives.  She 
inquires  what  it  is  for.  She  thinks  she  ought  not  to 
accept  it  any  longer  without  doing  some  service  in 
return." 

"  A  commendable  spirit,  surely." 

"  I  urged  her  to  save  it  against  her  wedding-day. 
She  did  not  seem  satisfied,  and  I  promised  to  see  my 
father  about  it  on  his  return,  and  find  her  something 
to  do,  if  possible." 

From  the  Fair  ground,  as  they  drew  near,  they 
heard  issuing  forth  a  strident  music  of  barrel-organs 
and  the  orchestras  of  side-shows,  and  they  could  see, 
above  the  far-stretching,  high  white  palisade  that  en- 
compassed it,  the  crests  of  pavilions,  booths,  and  tents, 
decked  with  gayly  floating  banners.  Within  were 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  87 

parked  the  dusty  vehicles  of  country  folk,  who  looked 
upon  the  occasion  as  a  wonderful  festival,  and  the 
equipages  of  wealthy  city  people,  who,  like  our  friends, 
had  made  it  the  terminus  of  an  afternoon's  drive. 
The  praises  of  the  Learned  Pig  mingled  with  those 
of  the  Wild  Australian  Children,  the  lowing  of  ani- 
mals with  the  shuffle  and  clatter  of  agricultural  appa- 
ratus, and  the  steam  and  whir  and  thud  of  falling 
stamps  in  Machinery  Hall.  A  knot  of  committee- 
men  trudged,  with  important  air,  among  the  stalls 
arranged  around  the  outer  circuit  of  the  inclosure, 
distributing  medals  and  ribbons  to  favored  live  stock. 
Something  could  be  seen  of  a  sham  battle  in  progress 
on  an  elevated  green  common  without ;  and  from 
time  to  time  a  man  with  a  red  sash  and  stentorian 
voice  announced  trials  of  speed  on  the  trotting  track. 
Ives  Wilson  was  there,  in  a  kiosk  specially  erected 
for  the  Daily  Index.  He  seemed  even  unusually 
full  of  business.  With  profuse  enthusiasm  he  handed 
out  to  our  friends  a  copy  of  his  special  State  Fair 
Edition.  Thousands  of  copies  of  it  were  being  dis- 
tributed gratis,  containing  excellently-paid  puffs  of  the 
Eureka  farm  pump,  the  Little  Giant  harvester,  the 
Pearl  Feather  windmill,  and  the  like.  He  broke 
away  to  confer  with  two  notables  known  as  the  "  Hop 
King  "  and  the  "  Cranberry  King,"  and  to  receive 
subscriptions  from  small  country  politicians,  who  made 
it  a  point  to  come  and  pay  in  person,  at  this  time,  to 
keep  the  eye  of  the  Index  favorably  fixed  upon 
them  during  the  ensuing  year.  He  hurried  back,  and 
threw  into  the  lap  of  Mrs.  Varemberg,  till  it  resem- 


88  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

bled  the  lap  of  Abundance,  specimens  of  mammoth 
fruits  and  vegetables.  Such  abnormal  objects  were 
donated  him  as  an  editor,  and  hence  their  most  fitting 
recipient. 

"  What  energy  !  what  zeal !  "  said  Barclay. 

"I  should  not  wonder  if  he  even  went  to  sleep 
with  greater  energy  than  other  people,"  responded 
his  companion.  "  I  have  an  idea  he  shuts  his  eyes 
with  an  actual  snap,  and  proposes  to  show  the  world 
one  of  the  most  vigorous  examples  of  sleeping  on 
record." 

The  Art  Pavilion,  to  which  they  were  bound,  was 
found  to  be  a  rather  rudely  finished  structure  of  pine 
boards,  octagonal  in  shape.  On  one  side  was  ar- 
ranged, by  itself,  the  little  collection  sent  by  Mrs. 
Varemberg,  consisting  chiefly  of  some  choice  textile 
stuffs  and  bright  foreign  pictures  of  the  modern 
schools,  from  her  own  home,  together  with  some  few 
other  specimens  of  merit,  loaned  by  their  owners  with 
reluctance,  and  only  upon  the  personal  representa- 
tions of  one  so  influential  tis  herself.  The  contribu- 
tion next  in  importance  was  that  of  a  certain  refined 
Radbrook  family,  of  whom  she  spoke  incidentally  with 
warm  admiration. 

"  They  have  almost  everything,"  she  said  :  "  money 
enough  for  every  refined  taste,  health,  good  looks, 
charming  children,  and  fondness  for  each  other.  It 
is  a  most  enviable  household.  The  chief  pleasure  of 
the  master  of  it  is  music.  It  is  not  for  display  or  ap- 
plause, in  a  common  way  ;  on  the  contrary,  he  prefers 
to  be  alone  ;  and  there  is  something  poetic  and  gentle 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  89 

in  the  way  he  sits,  by  the  hour,  in  his  music-room, 
fingering  over  to  himself  his  difficult  compositions. 
His  wife  protects  this  taste,  but  does  not  share  it. 
They  are  amiable  and  gay  in  the  world,  but  pay  no 
weak  deference  to  it,  and  do  not  let  it  invade  their 
genuine,  self-centred  happiness." 

There  were  indications  of  her  own  ideal  of  domes- 
tic life  to  be  gathered  from  this. 

Another  class  of  pictures,  very  smoothly  varnished 
copies  after  the  old  masters,  in  very  brightly  gilded 
frames,  complacently  displayed  by  one  of  the  latest 
of  the  class  of  new  rich,  perhaps  met  with  the  most 
favor  from  the  spectators.  The  former  were  spoken 
of  as  "  too  gaudy,"  and  doubts  entertained  of  their 
being  in  good  taste.  Ingenuous  school-girls  and  the 
like  sought  the  latter  with  eagerness.  They  had  read 
of  the  originals  in  their  text  books,  and  felt  that  here 
they  were  reveling  with  proper  sentiment  over  the 
grandest  creations  of  art. 

Then  followed  dull  portraits  and  leaden  landscapes 
by  practitioners  who  eked  out  a  bare  subsistence  in 
the  place  by  the  aid  of  teaching ;  woodeny  prize  cat- 
tle, painted  broadside  on,  to  please  their  owners  ;  a 
figure-piece  by  a  one-armed  veteran  of  the  Soldiers 
Home  ;  a  smudged  crayon  drawing  "  by  a  boy  of  thir- 
teen," who  spent  the  greater  part  of  his  time  before 
it  in  rapt  admiration  ;  and  chromos,  lithographed  cir- 
culars and  bill-heads,  and  a  mammoth  St.  George  and 
the  Dragon,  executed  in  Spencerian  penmanship. 

A  number  of  people  they  knew  were  met  with  in 
passing  through.  Miss  Justine  DeBow,  accompanied 


90  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

by  Lieutenant  Gregg  of  the  revenue  cutter,  gave  Bar- 
clay a  gracious  nod.  Mrs.  Varemberg  sank  down  on 
a  bench  with  fatigue. 

"  You  see  the  cause  of  art  has  not  yet  made  enor- 
mous strides  in  Keewaydin,"  she  said,  summing  up. 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  that  is  a  safe  statement." 

"  But  it  is  advancing,  it  is  coming  this  way  ;  it  is, 
really.  I  myself  am  old  enough  to  have  seen  won- 
derful changes  in  my  time." 

"  Let  it  come  by  itself,  then.  Let  its  tottering 
steps  be  supported  by  some  more  vigorous  shoulder 
than  yours."  He  had  noted  an  unusually  pallid  and 
worn  look  overspread  her  face.  "  Good  heavens,  why 
have  I  let  you  so  overtax  your  strength  ?  How  can 
I  have  been  so  stupid  ?  " 

"  It  is  nothing.  It  is  not  my  proceedings  to-day 
that  tire  me ;  the  bare  exertion  of  getting  these  few 
things  together  had  already  done  it." 

"  Then  why  did  you  have  anything  to  do  with  it?" 
he  asked,  in  energetic  reproof. 

"  I  suppose  I  was  weak,  and  let  myself  be  per- 
suaded. They  told  me  I  ought  to  share  my  superior 
advantages  with  others  less  fortunate.  They  said  I 
was  a  leader ;  and  when  one  is  a  leader  one  ought  to 
lead,  you  know." 

"  But  in  all  these  ways  you  dissipate  vital  force  you 
can  ill  spare.  You  ought  to  lead  the  calmest,  most 
untroubled  life  possible." 

"  '  Calm  '  and  '  untroubled  '  are  good.  Well,  there 
is  sometimes  a  certain  need  of  distraction.  And  was 
it  not  you  who  were  only  lately  counseling  me  ath- 
letic sports  ?  " 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  91 

"  This  is  not  athletic  sport,  and  now  I  counsel  you 
rest,"  he  said,  looking  into  her  eyes  with  deep  ear- 
nestness. "  Come  !  we  must  get  you  well." 

"  There  will  be  all  eternity  to  rest  in." 

But  this  sincere  concern  in  her  well-being  had 
evidently  awakened  her  gratitude.  As  if  with  com- 
punction for  her  conduct  of  yesterday,  she  returned, 
of  her  own  accord,  to  the  point  at  which  they  had 
then  left  off. 

"  I  repulsed  your  interest  in  my  affairs  yesterday. 
I  fear  I  was  very  rude  to  you,"  she  said,  with  much 
gentleness.  "  Now  I  would  like  to  tell  you  all  you 
may  care  to  know." 

"  No,  no  ;  it  was  unpardonable  in  me  to  trench 
upon  the  subject  at  all.  Pray  try  to  forgive  and  for- 
get it." 

"  But  I  want  to  tell  you,"  she  insisted,  with  a  gen- 
tle imperiousness. 

Upon  this  they  took  their  carriage  again  and  drove 
homeward.  Restive  Castor  and  Pollux  had  been 
fuming  under  the  unwonted  sounds  and  phantasma- 
goria of  the  Fair,  and  did  not  recover  their  customary 
gait  till  the  inclosure  was  left  well  behind  them. 
The  drill  of  the  local  militia  was  still  in  progress. 
The  American  Light  Guard,  the  Irish  Emmet  Guard, 
the  German  Jagers,  and  the  Polish  Sobieskis  marched 
and  countermarched  before  one  another  in  gallant 
style.  When  the  bayonets  of  the  caterpillar-like 
squads  twinkled  faintly  at  a  distance,  and  the  smoke 
of  their  volleys  floated  on  the  air  like  puffs  of  thistle- 
down, Mrs.  Varemberg  began  her  story. 


92  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

"  Under  Varemberg's  gay  and  frank  demeanor," 
said  she,  "  a  superficial  veneer  adopted  only  for  so- 
ciety, he  covered  a  morose  and  barbarous  nature.  He 
developed,  in  particular,  a  phenomenal  cruelty  of 
disposition  wliich  in  recollection  seems  incredible." 

••  Who  would  have  credited  it?" 

"  Something  strange  seemed  to  come  between  us 
from  the  very  outset.  There  was  no  companionship, 
not  a  feeling  nor  thought  in  common.  It  was  too 
hideous.  At  first  I  used  to  persuade  myself  it  was  my 
fault,  and  try  to  dispel  it.  The  more  I  humiliated 
myself,  the  harder  and  more  brutal  he  became." 

'•  There  are  natures,"  said  Barclay,  "  like  that  Al- 
pine rose,  the  type  of  ingratitude,  which,  compara- 
tively tame  in  its  pastures,  bristles  the  more  with 
thorns  the  more  it  is  cultivated." 

"  His  native  trait  of  cruelty  was  exercised  on 
horses,  dogs,  inferiors,  and  all  around.  I  was  a  daily 
witness  to  unmerited  suffering.  It  was  an  outbreak 
of  this  kind  that  first  alienated  me  from  him,  even 
before  it  had  been  wreaked  on  myself." 

"  And  we  esteem  ourselves  judges  of  character  ! " 
said  Barclay. 

"  A  poor  soldier  who  had  been  guilty  of  some  of- 
fense, which  though  certainly  a  breach  of  military 
discipline  was  not  a  crime,  had  been  condemned  to 
death,  by  court-martial.  The  circumstances  were  so 
peculiar  that  they  had  attracted  much  attention.  The 
soldier  was  from  our  own  village,  where  his  detach- 
ment was  stationed  at  the  time.  A  stroiif  feelino-  of 

O  O 

sympathy  was  aroused  for  him  among  his  neighbors 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  93 

and  comrades.  He  was  led  out  the  first  time  to  be 
shot,  and  the  platoon  would  not  fire.  The  villagers 
rushed  between,  and  bared  their  breasts,  crying,  '  You 
shall  not  harm  him ;  you  shall  kill  us  first ! '  He  was 
led  back  to  his  prison,  and  they  came  to  me,  among 
others,  to  invoke  my  intercession  with  my  husband. 
'  If  he  can  but  obtain  a  reprieve,  and  the  case  be  car- 
ried to  the  higher  authorities,'  they  pleaded,  '  he  will 
surely  have  justice  done  him,  and  be  saved.'  " 

"  You  had  identified  yourself  well  with  your  vil- 
lage, then  ?  " 

"  Yes,  one  would  naturally  do  so.  A  woman's 
country,  you  know,  is  that  where  she  loves."  (Her 
companion  winced.)  "  Though  that  motive  endured 
but  so  short  a  time,  I  had  early  found  a  sort  of  dis- 
traction in  the  place.  My  husband  was  connected,  in 
some  retired  or  supernumerary  way,  with  the  army, 
yet  was  one  of  those,  though  not  the  principal  one, 
who  had  to  do  with  the  execution  of  the  sentence. 
When  I  spoke  to  him,  he  repulsed  my  interference 
with  insulting  sarcasms.  No  reprieve  was  obtained. 
The  man  was  once  more  led  out  to  die." 

She  paused  a  moment,  and  covered  her  eyes  with 
her  hand,  as  if  to  shut  out  a  terrible  recollection. 
Barclay  waited  in  respectful  silence  for  her  to  go  on. 

"  I  found  myself  by  accident  near  the  open  pa- 
rade-ground, that  morning,  quite  ignorant  of  what 
was  to  take  place.  The  peasants  again  ran  to  me, 
with  streaming  eyes,  as  a  melancholy  procession  came 
down  the  village  street.  I  took  a  few  steps,  in  a 
confused  way,  towards  it.  I  was  close  to  both  my 


94  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

husband  and  the  prisoner.  Hardly  knowing  what  I 
did,  I  reached  forth  and  laid  a  hand  on  Varemberg's 
arm.  It  seemed  to  inspire  in  him  a  rage  like  actual 
madness.  He  seized  a  revolver  from  his  holster,  and 
ran  and  placed  it  against  the  head  of  the  prisoner. 
'A  million  devils,'  he  cried,  'can  we  never  get  this 
vagabond  shot ! '  and  he  fired. 

"  I  was  so  near  that  the  blood  of  the  poor  victim 
scattered  over  me,  and  his  pleading  eyes  directed  into 
mirte  their  last  glance  on  earth." 

Barclay's  breath  came  thick  and  fast,  as  he  listened 
with  horror  to  this  recital. 

"  After  such  an  event,  what  more  could  there  ever 
be  between  us?  He  terrified  me  inexpressibly.  I 
did  not  know  at  what  moment  I  might  meet  a  similar 
fate.  His  appearance,  which  I  had  once  thought  so 
gallant  and  handsome,  seemed  sinister  to  the  last  de- 
gree, and  his  smile  froze  me.  He  saw  my  aversion, 
and  was  pleased  at  first  to  make  some  small  efforts 
to  overcome  it,  and  be  like  his  former  self.  But  if 
this  shocking  deed  were  not  sufficient,  others  of  a 
like  nature  followed.  Then  I  began  to  learn  of  glar- 
ing infidelities.  He  twice  demanded  of  my  father 
large  sums  in  addition  to  what  had  been  paid  as  my 
wedding  portion.  He  had  been  a  bankrupt  from 
the  very  start ;  and  finally  his  transactions  in  money 
were  such  that  he  had  to  leave  the  country.  In  the 
midst  of  it,  too,  my  child  had  died.  Ah,  if  I  had  had 
but  that  solace,  I  think  I  might  have  endured  all  the 
rest.  How  lonely  I  was  in  the  great  foreign  ho.use, 
far  from  all  I  had  ever  known  !  My  father  came 
there  and  took  me  home." 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  95 

"  It  puzzles  me  beyond  measure,  —  his  pretext  for 
turning  to  such  courses  ;  his  motive  in  throwing  away 
such  happiness  as  his." 

"  He  must  have  followed  a  natural  bias  that  had 
been  hidden  from  us.  It  could  not  have  been  the 
beginning  of  it  we  witnessed.  Much  of  his  conduct 
seemed  without  motive,  his  cruelty  pure  wantonness  ; 
perhaps  it  would  be  most  merciful  to  suppose  it  in- 
sanity. There  were  such  characters  in  history,  who 
delighted  in  torture  for  its  own  sake.  His  seemed 
one  of  those  natures  that  at  a  certain  point  had  to  go 
wholly  and  irremediably  to  the  bad." 
'  "  But  how,  but  why  did  such  a  dreadful  mistake 
ever  arise  ?  "  exclaimed  Barclay  excitedly. 

"  I  suppose  I  chose  with  a  young  girl's  want  of 
reflection.  I  must  have  been  very  thoughtless,  even 
for  my  age.  Truly,  I  had  formed  but  a  dim  concep- 
tion of  what  it  was  to  be  married,  and  of  the  need  of 
a  true  affection.  Varemberg  interested,  even  dazzled 
me.  He  told  me,  too,  that  no  one  could  ever  love 
me  as  much  as  he,  and  I  think  I  allowed  myself  to 
believe  it." 

"  And  yet  it  ought  not  to  have  been  so  difficult 
to  love  you,  in  those  times,"  broke  in  Barclay,  with 
a  sad  sort  of  bitterness.  "  I  sometimes  used  to  won- 
der that  everybody  who  knew  you  did  not  do  it." 

He  had  yielded  momentarily  to  an  emotion  against 
which  he  vainly  struggled.  Surely  it  was  evident 
now  that  her  father  had  never  told  her  of  his  pro- 
posal, and  she  had  never  known  the  true  state  of  his , 
feelings.  Such  naivete  of  statement,  as  unconscious 


%  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

as  her  former  flippancy,  would  otherwise  have  been 
impossible. 

She  turned  towards  him  a  look  of  genuine  surprise. 

"  Truly,"  she  said,  "  you  have  come  back  an  accom- 
plished flatterer.  Once,  praise  from  you  was  praise 
from  Sir  Hubert,  to  be  esteemed  indeed." 

"  Whatever  I  have  come  back,  it  is  no  flatterer." 

"  Then  it  only  remains  to  set  you  down  as  mis- 
guided. I  was  far  from  certain  in  my  own  mind 
about  this  marriage,"  she  went  on  presently,  "  but  my 
father  reassured  me,  and  laid  my  scruples  at  rest." 

««  Your  father  ?  " 

"  Yes,  alas  !  he  too  was  deceived." 

Paul  Barclay's  surmise,  to  which  so  many  indica- 
tions had  pointed,  was  confirmed.  Her  father  had 
been  the*  author  of  the  match,  she  only  a  consenting 
party.  He  groaned  in  spirit  to  think  that  all  his 
agony  had  passed  even  unnoted,  and  to  recall  his  own 
words  of  consuming  passion  unspoken,  when  it  ap- 
peared how  easily  the  glib  sophistries  of  the  foreigner 
had  prevailed  with  her. 

"  Bear  with  me,"  he  resumed,  after  some  casual 
interruption  from  the  sights  and  scenes  around  them. 
"  And  after  all  this,  they  tell  me,  you  will  not  avail 
yourself  even  of  the  poor  remedy  of  the  law." 

"  Oh  no,  not  that ;  never ! "  she  ejaculated,  in  a 
sort  of  horror. 

"And  why?" 

"There  is  but  one  thing  for  a  woman  to  do  in  a 
situation  like  mine,  and  that  is  to  accept  the  conse- 
quences of  her  folly  gracefully,  and  conceal  them 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  97 

from  the  public  eye  as  far  as  possible.  No  new  trials, 
no  farther  experiments  for  me  !  " 

"  But  even  apart  from  further  experiments,"  he 
reasoned  with  her,  grieved  at  the  terms,  "  is  it  not 
irksome  to  drag  a  ball  and  chain  five  or  ten  thousand 
miles  long?" 

"  There  are  international  aspects  to  the  case,  and 
it  is  not  certain  that  release  could  be  obtained,  valid 
in  both  countries,  did  I  desire  it  never  so  much.  And 
where  is  the  great  harm  in  a  ball  and  chain,  if  one 
does  not  wish  to  dance  ?  "  with  a  melancholy  smile. 

"  I  have  not  heard  it  was  dancers  only  to  whom 
those  appendages  were  hateful.  One  would  always 
like  to  walk  unimpeded,  even  at  the  slowest  pace." 

"No,  I  have  firm  convictions  against  what  you 
suggest,"  she  persisted. 

"  And  so  had  I  till  now.  Or  rather,  I  fear  my  at- 
tention has  never  been  closely  turned  to  it.  But 
surely  the  step  was  never  better  justified." 

"  Whom  God  hath  joined  together,  he  only  can  put 
asunder.  That  is  what  I  have  always  been  taught 
to  believe.  That  is  what  my  father  believes,  with 
me.  Alas !  in  many  things  I  no  longer  know  what 
my  convictions  are.  Varemberg  shook  my  faith,  in 
our  early  days,  with  his  brilliant,  hateful  skepticism  ; 
that  harm  he  did  me  with  the  rest.  But,  in  all  my 
uncertainties,  on  this  point  I  have  never  wavered." 

Barclay  abandoned  the  argument  with  a  sigh.  He 
afterwards  felt  greatly  his  temerity  in  entering  on  it. 
He  sighed  over  his  companion  in  many  ways. 

"  Ah,  that  such  a  fate,"  he  said,  "  should  have  been 


98  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

hers,  so  made  as  she  was  for  sunshine,  for  distinction  ! 
Ah,  that  yonder  wretch  should  have  been  allowed  to 
throw  away  this  treasure  of  affection  and  loveliness, 
when  I  —  I  would  have  given  my  heart's  blood  to 
save  her  from  an  instant's  pain  !  " 

A  week  after  this,  the  statement  was  current  that 
a  new  partner  had  gone  into  the  management  of  the 
Stamped-AVare  Works.  The  news  was  brought  to 
the  Johannisberg  House,  which  stood  at  no  great  dis- 
tance from  Barclay's  Island,  on  the  main  land,  by  the 
South  Side  letter-carrier,  Peter  Stransky. 

It  was  a  quiet  afternoon  at  that  respectable  cara- 
vansary. There  were  visible  a  collection  of  shells 
and  a  full-rigged  ship,  behind  the  bar  of  the  long, 
neatly  sanded  room.  A  little  platform  crossed  one 
end  of  this  room,  on  which  a  quartette  of  Tyroleans, 
with  zither  accompaniment,  sometimes  sang  the  na- 
tional yodel.  The  wall  behind  it  was  painted  with  a 
mammoth  Alpine  scene,  with  a  door  in  the  centre ; 
so  that  the  performers,  on  taking  leave,  seemed  to 
disappear  into  the  heart  of  the  mountain,  like  a  spe- 
cies of  kobolds.  Christian  Idak,  grown  older  and 
confirmed  in  that  important  air  of  the  small  landlord 
who  is  better  off  than  most  of  his  guests,  still  moved 
about  in  his  shirt-sleeves.  Frau  Idak  sat  knitthif  in 

O 

a  corner,  and  a  child  by  her  side  was  doing  sums  on 
its  slate.  The  usual  marine  gossips  were  at  their 
posts,  recounting  hair-breadth  escapes  and  curious 
happenings,  which  are  even  more  common,  perhaps, 
in  the  lake  navigation  than  that  of  the  salt  ocean. 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  99 

One  had  told  of  cruising  in  Lake  Superior,  in 
June,  amid  fields  of  floating  ice,  twenty  feet  thick. 
Another  had  told  how,  once,  when  wrecked,  he  had 
seen  the  ghost  of  a  former  captain  swimming  by  him 
in  the  water.  The  mysterious  questions  of  a  tide 
and  subterranean  outlets  for  the  lakes  had  been 
touched  upon. 

"  All  I  know  is,"  said  a  tug-man,  "  that  a  precious 
sight  more  water  goes  down  that  Saint  Lawrence 
River  than  ever  gets  out  o'  the  lakes  fair  and  above- 
board." 

"  Most  anywhere  out  Waukesha  way,  —  where  I 
hail  from,"  —  added  a  skipper,  corroborating  him,  "  if 
you  bore  down  into  the  solid  rock  you  get  water 
comin'  up,  with  live  fish  in  it.  And  '  cisco,'  which  is 
a  Lake  Superior  fish,  and  nothin'  else,  appears  in 
Genevy  Lake  a  few  days  every  year,  and  then  disap- 
pears again,  so  you  can't  find  one  for  love  nor  money. 
Now  what  does  all  that  mean  if  it  ain't  that  there  's 
underground  channels  ?  " 

The  "  hard  times,"  supposed  to  be  existing,  next 
came  in  for  their  fair  share  of  attention. 

An  engineer  of  the  Owl  Line  complained  that 
they  did  not  get  one  trip  now  where  they  formerly 
got  a  dozen. 

"  It  is  the  same  way  with  us,"  added  a  rival  of  the 
Diamond  Jim  Line  :  "  the  big  craft  is  eatin'  up  all 
the  small  ones,  in  the  carryin'  trade.  And  even 
they  don't  make  no  very  heavy  pile  out  of  it." 

"The  bloated  money  kings  and  monopolist  sharks 
is  at  the  bottom  of  it,"  cried  a  vigorous  exponent  of 


100  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

the  '•'  greenback  "  school  of  finance.      "  This  conn- 

O 

try  '11  never  see  a  well  day  again  till  it  gets  a  poor 
man's  currency,  and  makes  it  ekil  to  the  wants  o' 
trade." 

It  was  about  this  time  that  the  South  Side  letter- 
carrier  came  in,  on  his  swift  rounds,  with  his  leather 
satchel  slung  over  his  shoulder. 

"  The  Stamped- Ware  Works  is  one  place  that  don't 
show  much  signs  o'  hard  times,"  said  he,  imbibing 
a  glass  of  Keewaydin's  excellent  beer.  "I've  just 
come  from  there.  They  've  got  a  new  partner,  and 
are  puttin'  on  a  new  lot  of  hands,  and  everything  's 
boomin'." 

"Who?"  "What?"  "How?"  greeted  the  an- 
nouncement, from  all  sides,  with  a  lively  interest. 
"  Who 's  the  new  partner  ?  " 

"  Name 's  Barclay,  —  a  New  York  feller,  with  loads 
o'  money  ;  same  one  what  his  father  used  to  own  the 
island  afore  him."  And  he  was  off  again,  on  his 
route,  down  to  the  remote  precincts  of  Wincllake 
Avenue  and  Muckwonago  Road. 

The  little  notary  public,  Kroeger,  who  spent  most 
of  his  time  here,  having  little  to  detain  him  at  his 
own  office,  and  who  obtained  a  repute  for  wisdom 
and  insight  by  a  policy  of  cynical  smiling  and  dispar- 
agement, commented  sagely :  — 

"  I  guess  Maxwell  he  got  bigger  ideas  as  what  he 
know  how  to  do  business." 

Akins,  the  foreman  of  the  Works,  came  in  pres- 
ently, with  a  hard-pressed  air,  and  confirmed  the  in- 
telligence, with  additions. 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  101 

"  Of  course  the  concern  was  solid,"  said  he,  "  and 
no  need  o'  changin',  but  a  little  more  money  don't 
never  do  no  harm.  Mr.  Barclay,  he  was  lookin' 
round  for  a  job,  and  bein '  as  we  suited  him,  and  the 
island  was  his,  any  way,  what  more  natural  than  that 
we  should  strike  up  a  bargain  ?  " 

Mrs.  Varemberg  derived  her  first  authentic  infor- 
mation from  Barclay  himself.  Some  rumor  of  it  had 
already  reached  her.  She  received  it  with  an  open 
enthusiasm. 

"  You  are  going  to  stay  ?  "  she  exclaimed. 

"  Yes,  I  am  going  to  stay." 

"  It  seems  one  of  those  things  really  too  good  to 
be  true." 

"  It  appears  that  the  too-good-to-be-true  sometimes 
happens,"  he  replied,  smiling. 

He  surprised  in  himself  a  certain  tremor,  at  her 
pleasant  excitement,  but  quickly  dismissed  it.  She 
had  had  really  nothing  to  do  with  his  staying,  he  as- 
sured himself.  She  was  in  the  place,  it  is  true,  and 
was  weak  and  suffering,  and  he  might  be  of  some 
small  solace  and'assistance  to  her,  —  as  he  should  be 
glad  to  be  to  any  friend  in  like  situation  in  whom  he 
felt  an  interest,  —  but  that  was  all. 

"  Maxwell  put  the  matter  in  such  a  light  that  I 
could  not  decline  his  offer,"  he  explained.  "  If  I 
were  in  earnest  in  my  ideas,  —  and  I  assure  you  I 
was,  — here  was  an  opening  just  suited  to  my  pecul- 
iar case,  and,  strangely  enough,  ready  to  my  hand. 
Why  should  I  search  further  ?  " 

And  so  indeed  he   thought.     He  had  yielded  to 


lO'J  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

tliat  subtile  warping  by  inclination  and  sympathy 
which  sometimes  has  its  way  even  with  the  clearest 
of  consciences.  He  had  not  the  faintest  notion  in 
the  world  of  being  that  equivocal  figure,  the  mascu- 
line consoler  of  an  unhappy  wife.  He  was  endowed 
with  excellent  Anglo-Saxon  common  sense,  and  he 
felt  himself  to  be,  now,  with  his  ample  experience, 
a  person  of  a  sturdy  temperament,  upon  which  the 
imagination  could  play  but  few  of  its  tricks.  Was 
he  not  heart-whole  ?  And  have  we  not  seen  lovers 
meeting  in  after  years,  and  even  exchanging  con- 
gratulations on  their  fortunate  escape  from  each 
other  ?  It  was  his  general  purpose  in  life  to  set  his 
face  resolutely  against  all  those  courses  of  conduct 
requiring  extenuation  or  apology,  and  he  had  no  in- 
tention of  departing  from  it  in  this  instance. 

When  David  Lane  returned,  after  the  absence  we 
have  noted,  he  found  Paul  Barclay  fairly  settled  in 
Keewaydin. 

"  What  does  this  mean  ? "  he  demanded  of  his 
daughter,  with  a  face  of  ominous  and  rigid  severity, 
of  which  she  by  no  means  comprehended  the  occa- 
sion. 

••  NVhat  could  it  mean,  papa  ?  I  do  not  understand 
you,"  she  responded,  in  strong  astonishment. 

"  This  young  man  must  needs  follow  us  about  the 
world,  and  now  he  comes  hither,  and  even  makes  a 
pretext  of  engaging  in  business." 

"  And  why  should  he  not  go  into  a  business  here  ? 
I  do  not  understand  you,  papa.  As  to  his  following 
us  about  the  world,  surely  you  remember  that  it  is  a 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  103 

good  four  years  since  we  have  seen  him,  and  it  was 
but  by  the  merest  accident  he  knew  I  was  here." 

David  Lane,  in  his  first  access  of  consternation,  had 
made  a  very  false  step.  He  hastened  to  repair  its 
consequences  as  best  he  could. 

"  I  was  only  thinking,  dearest,"  he  began,  in  a  con- 
fused way,  "  if  it  should  be  said  that  a  former  admirer 
had  followed  you  here,  at  this  particular  time  "  — 

"  But  he  is  not  my  '  former  admirer,'  "  she  inter- 
rupted, impatiently.  "  He  was  a  very  staunch  friend, 
whom  I  should  like  to  keep.  At  the  worst,  we  hardly 
have  the  right  to  turn  out  of  Keewaydin  all  those  who 
have  been  my  admirers,  —  if  we  can  suppose  any  so 
misguided.  I  do  not  understand  you  at  all.  Was  not 
Paul  Barclay,  at  Paris,  one  of  our  most  esteemed  ac- 
quaintances ?  " 

"I  —  I  have  nothing  against  him,"  stammered  the 
wretched  man.  "  Only,  your  position,  just  at  this 
time,  requires  a  great  deal  of  circumspection." 

Under  the  influence  of  her  brother,  Mrs.  Clinton, 
in  her  turn,  offered  a  feeble  counsel,  on  the  same 
subject. 

"  He  is  a  most  gentlemanly  man,  and  all  that  could 
be  desired  in  every  way,  I  am  sure,"  she  said,  depre- 
catingly  ;  "  but,  since  he  is  now  going  to  remain  here, 
it  seems  to  me  I  would  not  see  quite  so  much  —  not 
too  much  of  him,  Florence,  dear." 

"  You  know  my  views  and  practice  on  all  those 
matters ;  you  have'  even  urged  me  to  modify  them, 
make  them  less  severe.  Why  do  you  now  become 
more  loyal  than  the  queen  ?  " 


I 
104  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

"  Your  situation  is  one  requiring  a  great  deal  of 
circumspection,"  said  the  aunt,  repeating  her  brother's 
words. 

"  My  situation  is  one  requiring  a  good  cup  of  tea 
and  a  night's  rest,"  returned  the  object  of  these  ex- 
postulations, and  she  retired  to  her  own  chamber. 


VI. 

"  TAUGHT    BY   MISFORTUNE,    I    PITY  THE   UNHAPPY." 

AT  an  early  day  after  taking  the  important  step 
described,  Barclay  went  to  New  York  to  settle  up 
certain  of  his  affairs  awaiting  him  there,  and  to  finally 
conclude,  by  a  brief  visit  to  his  family,  his  long  tour 
round  the  world. 

He  found  himself  glad,  on  reaching  New  York 
again,  to  have  chosen  Keewaydin  as  his  field  of  ac- 
tion. The  great  metropolis  would  have  been  too  vast, 
its  influence  too  discouraging  for  his  simple  experi- 
ment. An  individual  like  himself  would  have  been 
swallowed  up  in  its  Babel  of  conflicting  interests,  and 
could  not  have  hoped  to  make  the  faintest  impression. 

The  city  had  changed  much,  even  during  the  few 
years  of  his  absence.  The  great  apartment-houses 
had  begun  to  tower  up  above  the  level  of  ordinary 
life,  some  even  surpassing  the  tops  of  the  churches. 
His  own  family,  meantime,  had  moved  far  up  town, 
near  Central  Park,  choosing  their  new  abode  in  a 
quarter  that  had  been  in  his  day  but  a  waste  of  desert 
lots,  and  abandoning  the  old  one  on  Fifth  Avenue  to 
the  encroachments  of  trade.  His  sisters  one  day 
told  mournfully  how  they  had  made  purchases  over 
the  counter  in  the  chambers  sacred  to  the  most  inti- 
mate memories  of  their  childhood. 


106  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

Old  acquaintances,  whom  he  met  at  the  clubs, 
where  he  still  kept  his  membership,  were  inclined  to 
joke  him  about  the  "  wilds  "  where  he  had  taken 
up  his  new  habitat ;  but  they  were  respectful  about 
it,  too,  identifying  it  more  or  less  with  the  cattle 
ranches  of  Dakota  and  Montana,  to  which  various 
friends,  "  swell  "  young  Englishmen  and  the  like,  had 
taken  lately,  and  they  asked  him  questions  about 
stock-raising,  and  begged  him  to  bear  them  in  mind 
if  he  should  meet  with  opportunities  for  money-mak- 
ing he  himself  might  not  be  able  to  use. 

Paul  Barclay  returned  to  Keewaydin,  and  took  up 
his  quarters  in  the  spacious  residence  of  his  kinsfolk, 
the  Thornbrooks,  a  pleasant  old  couple,  quite  free 
from  the  crabbedness  of  age,  who  insisted  upon  it 
with  a  pressing  hospitality.  They  had  their  own 
primitive  ideas  and  habits,  they  said,  but  these  should 
in  no  way  be  allowed  to  interfere  with  his  conven- 
ience. They  promised  him  an  exaggerated  liberty. 
They  insisted  that  there  was  room  enough,  and  to 
spare,  for  all ;  and  so  indeed  it  seemed,  when  Bar- 
clay came  to  inspect  the  large,  comfortable  chambers 
placed  at  his  disposal.  The  Thornbrooks  proceeded 
forthwith  to  give  an  entertainment,  with  the  view  of 
introducing  him  to  the  society  of  the  place,  and  nearly 
everybody  of  note  assembled  to  do  him  honor.  There 
came,  among  the  rest,  his  traveling-companions,  Jim 
DeBow,  who  rose  once  more  on  his  toes,  and  Miss 
Justine  DeBow.  This  time  she  asked  him  to  come 
and  see  her  at  her  home. 

But  he  began  his  labors  immediately  in  earnest. 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  107 

Establishing  a  regular  routine,  he  rose  and  break- 
fasted early ;  then  drove,  in  a  buggy  he  had  set  up, 
—  or  sometimes  walked,  for  the  benefit  of  the  more 
active  exercise,  —  down  to  the  Works,  where  he  spent 
a  long,  busy  day.  He  crossed  the  Chippewa  Street 
bridge,  where  Ludwig  Trapschuh  soon  came  to  add 
him  to  the  large  list  of  acquaintance  he  claimed.  It 
was  the  purpose  of  Barclay  to  post  himself  thor- 
oughly in  all  parts  of  his  enterprise  before  he  should 
set  out  upon  any  novel  schemes.  Accordingly,  he 
studied  the  great  books  of  account,  the  systems  of 
sales  and  credit,  the  character  and  source  of  supply 
of  the  raw  materials,  then  the  processes  of  manufac- 
ture, and  finally  the  shipment  of  the  completed  prod- 
uct to  many  and  distant  markets. 

His  "  office "  was  a  small  wooden  house,  with 
platform-scales  beside  it.  It  had  worn  cocoa  matting 
on  the  floor ;  it  contained  a  great  iron  safe,  a  low 
desk,  and  a  high  one  with  a  tall  stool  beside  it.  On 
the  wall  was  a  capacious  frame  filled  with  specimens 
of  the  smaller  wares  turned  out  by  the  factory,  with 
price-list  attached.  The  hum  of  a  distant  planing- 
mill  rose  unceasingly  on  the  ear,  like  some  homely 
song  forever  celebrating  the  plodding  industries  of 
the  quarter. 

The  main  buildings  were  partly  of  brick  and  partly 
of  wood ;  their  roofs  were  covered  with  a  preparation 
of  asphalt,  which,  with  the  tan-bark,  from  a  not  far 
distant  tannery,  laid  on  the  road  of  approach,  gave 
out  distinctive  odors  when  heated  by  the  sun.  Over 
the  principal  doorway  was  the  legend  :  "  No  Admis- 


108  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

sion  Except  on  Business."  All  around  was  a  litter 
of  piece-moulds,  old  castings,  and  general  debris,  and 
against  the  walls  leaned  some  mammoth  gear-wheels, 
quiet  so  long  from  their  swift  revolutions  that  the 
slow  rust  and  cobwebs  had  overtaken  them. 

The  dry,  unsentimental  nature  of  his  surroundings 
by  no  means  chilled  the  early  ardor  of  Barclay ;  if 
anything,  it  even  increased  it. 

"  The  mine  itself  does  not  shine,"  said  he ;  "  it  is 
only  the  product  from  its  gloomy  depths." 

There  was  even  a  certain  romance  in  their  utter 
commonplaceness.  It  was  a  reaction,  no  doubt,  a 
form  of  the  testimony  of  respect  that  the  studious, 
scholarly  temperament  pays  to  the  more  rugged  sort 
that  makes  the  money  and  carries  on  the  practical 
affairs  of  the  world.  Barclay  felt  that  he  had  been 
too  long  a  mere  loiterer  and  looker-on,  and  he  now 
took  a  manly  delight  in  knowing  himself,  at  last,  a 
part  of  the  great,  stirring,  useful,  workaday  world. 

He  had  conceived,  as  we  have  seen,  an  ideal  of  duty 
towards  his  men  far  beyond  that  of  the  mere  payment 
of  wages.  If  he  were  to  be  the  autocrat  of  their  des- 
tinies, he  meant  to  be  at  least  an  autocrat  of  the  be- 
neficent type.  So  he  was  fond  of  watching  them,  when 
he  thought  them  unaware  of  it,  at  their  work.  He 
found  a  kind  of  grotesque  pathos,  as  well  as  humor, 
in  their  smudged  faces,  their  flannel  shirts  of  red  and 
blue,  stained  with  oil,  all  the  vagaries  of  their  grimy 
costume.  He  wondered  to  himself  how  he  would 
have  stood  such  a  life  as  theirs,  had  it  been  forced 
upon  him.  The  flowers  that  bloomed  for  them  were 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  109 

the  flames  and  molten  metal  from  the  furnaces ;  the 
stars  that  shone  for  them  were  the  scintillations  of 
the  forging ;  the  birds  that  sang  for  them  were  the 
clink  of  the  hammers  ;  and  the  grass  that  grew  under 
their  feet  was  the  waste  of  slag  and  cinders. 

If  the  men  observed  him  at  this  study,  they  thought 
it  only  the  sharp  eye  of  the  task-master  bent  upon 
them,  to  see  that  they  neglected  no  duty  touching  his 
pocket.  There  was  range  enough  of  character.  He 
had  timid  spirits  and  bold,  the  gay  and  the  morose, 
the  faithful  at  their  tasks  and  the  chronic  shirkers, 
sycophants  who  would  have  curried  favor  with  him  by 
spying  upon  the  rest,  and  surly  independent  ones  who 
seemed  even  to  go  out  of  their  way  to  seek  occasion 
for  offense. 

Instead  of  some  episode  of  the  humanitarian  sort, 
to  which  he  aspired,  curiously  enough  one  of  the  first 
experiences  he  had  was  to  deal  with  a  fractious  and 
rebellious  hand.  This  man,  a  dangerous  character 
as  well  as  inefficient  workman,  after  having  been  dis- 
charged, returned  again,  under  the  influence  of  drink, 
and,  in  the  long  main  shop,  fired  twice  at  Barclay 
with  a  revolver,  at  almost  point-blank  range. 

"  "You  'd  'a'  thought  the  boss  kind  o'  liked  it," 
said  belligerent  young  Johnny  Maguire,  of  the  pack- 
ing-room, commenting  on  the  occurrence.  "  He  kep' 
as  cool  as  a  cucumber  all  the  time.  Oh,  he  's  got 
plenty  of  sand  in  his  gizzard,  and  don't  you  forget 
it." 

This  proceeding,  so  questionable,  perhaps,  as  phi- 
lanthropy, stood  Barclay  in  good  stead  in  other  re- 


110  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

spects.  His  coolness  under  fire  and  indifference  to 
danger  won  him  the  respect  of  the  rude  class  with 
which  he  had  to  deal  as  the  manifestation  of  no  other 
kind  of  qualities  at  first  would  have  done.  In  the 
long  run  it  lightened  his  management  in  many  wavs, 
and  gave  his  labors  and  influence  the  more  telling 
efficacy. 

The  news  of  it  came  to  Mrs.  Varemberg,  as  that  of 
the  steamer  accident  had  done,  only  from  outsiders 
and  after  a  considerable  time.  She  was  alarmed,  and 
said  to  him,  — 

"  Is  it  not  dangerous  for  you  to  mix  with  such 
rough  characters,  and  go  among  them  as  freely  as 
you  do  ?  They  may  knock  you  on  the  head  some 
day"  for  revenge,  or  robbery  ;  who  knows  ?  " 

"  The  only  fear  is  that  none  of  them  will  be  so 
obliging,"  he  replied,  in  a  way  that  much  puzzled  her. 

Barclay  aimed,  too,  with  an  all-embracing  ambi- 
tion, to  acquaint  himself  thoroughly  with  Keewaydin. 
He  studied  its  map,  its  topography,  its  past  and  pres- 
ent. He  designed  to  grasp  all  the  elements  of  its 
population ;  its  social  life,  the  sources  and  prospects 
of  its  trade,  the  method  of  its  government,  policing, 
lighting,  heating,  water  supply,  protection  from  fire ; 
its  courts,  schools,  churches,  and  cemeteries.  There 
was  a  definite  satisfaction  to  him  in  the  compactness, 
the  moderate  compass,  of  the  city,  —  large,  important, 
and  flourishing  though  it  was.  He  found  it  agreeable 
to  have  become  part  of  a  place  in  which  it  would  be 
possible  to  rise  to  the  top,  and  even,  should  he  so 
desire,  to  be  one  of  its  controlling  spirits. 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  Ill 

"  The  leaven  is  working,"  he  said  to  Mrs.  Varem- 
berg.  "  I  feel  within  me  the  makings  yet  of  a  bitter 
East  or  West  or  South  Sider." 

He  went  on  'Change.  He  wondered  if  the  same 
wrinkles  of  shrewdness  did  not  begin  to  appear  about 
his  own  eyes  as  about  those  of  the  business  people  he 
met  there. 

Jim  DeBow  welcomed  him  cordially,  and  dis- 
coursed as  before  on  the  present  and  prospective 
greatness  of  Keewaydin.  Ives  Wilson,  who  was  ex- 
tending the  range  of  his  infallibility  at  the  moment 
to  the  domain  of  grain  and  pork,  touched  up  Jim  De- 
Bow  a  little  on  the  subject  of  a  recent  large  opera- 
tion of  the  latter's  in  winter  wheat,  —  a  "  corner,"  in 
fact,  of  such  extent  as  to  have  caused  Chicago  to 
claim  with  pride  to  be  the  birthplace  of  its  manipu- 
lator. Both  leaned  nonchalantly  back  against  one 
of  the  long  tables,  and  munched  grains  of  wheat  as 
they  talked. 

"  Speaking  of  winter  wheat,"  said  the  editor  par- 
enthetically, "  you  '11  see  winters  out  here  that  '11 
make  your  hair  curl.  Why,  back  in  the  country 
where  this  comes  from,"  and  he  tossed  a  few  more 
grains  into  his  mouth,  "  when  the  thermometer 's  only 
up  to  zero,  the  people  put  their  summer  clothes  on." 

On  'Change  seemed  a  sort  of  commercial  club. 
Vessel-men,  agents  of  freight  lines  and  insurance 
companies,  attorneys,  builders,  and  money-lenders  re- 
sorted thither,  to  look  for  business.  Telegraphic  in- 
struments clicked,  messengers  ran  hither  and  thither, 
and  from  time  to  time  the  secretary  mounted  to  an 


112  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

upper  gallery,  and,  like  a  muezzin  summoning  to 
pruvers,  gave  out  the  latest  quotations  of  foreign 
markets,  —  the  shouting  circle  around  a  small  plat- 
form in  the  centre  pausing  briefly  in  their  turmoil  to 
listen. 

There  Barclay  met  also  David  Lane.  In  his  role 
of  capitalist,  the  ex-governor  stood  about  on  the  outer 
edge  of  the  circle,  supporting  his  dignified,  stocky 
figure  on  a  cane,  and  speaking  an  occasional  word 
with  one  of  the  more  active  members.  He  was  rheu- 
matic now,  and  at  times  could  walk  only  with  exceed- 
ing difficulty. 

Ives  Wilson  came  up,  and,  half  presenting  Barclay 
to  Lane,  in  his  offhand  fashion,  said  of  him,  — 

"  He  has  become  one  of  us,  —  I  'm  glad  you  know 
each  other.  I  tell  you,  little  by  little  Keewaydin  is 
going  to  gather  in  all  the  brains,  capital,  and  indus- 
try of  the  country.  By  the  way,"  to  Barclay,  "  I  'm 
thinking  of  sending  a  man  down  to  write  up  your 
place.  I  think  I  '11  have  Goff,  our  Assistant  Local, 
do  it ;  he  's  particularly  good  at  those  things." 

"  To  write  up  my  place  ?  " 

"  Yes,  a  column  article,  you  know,  under  the  head 
of  Keewaydin's  Industries.  We  give  you  a  hundred 
copies,  free,  to  distribute  round  among  your  friends, 
and  you  let  us  have  a  hundred  -  dollar  advertise- 
ment, —  see  ?  " 

David  Lane's  manner  to  the  young  manufacturer 
was  cold  and  repellent,  —  the  manner  he  so  well  re- 
membered in  the  old  times.  It  added  to  his  sense  of 
a  confirmed  hostility,  a  feeling  vividly  aroused  by  the 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  113 

revelation  of  Mrs.  Varemberg.  In  the  difficulty  of 
forming,  at  present,  any  more  general  programme, 
and  while  awaiting  the  development  of  events,  David 
Lane  had  taken  refuge  in  moroseness.  The  young 
man  should  at  least  have  no  countenance  from  him  ; 
he  would  not  invite  him  to  his  house,  nor  show  any 
willingness  to  receive  him  ;  he  would  not  encourage, 
if  he  could  not  put  an  end  to,  this  most  ominous  in- 
vasion. 

"  It  shall  never  be,  —  it  shall  never  be  !  "  he  mut- 
tered. But  even  those  who  saw  him  glance  fiercely 
after  the  retiring  figure  of  Barclay  could  have  had  lit- 
tle idea  of  all  the  tragic  thoughts  passing  in  his  mind. 

His  most  imminent  danger  had  come  back,  —  the 
danger,  too,  he  had  once  thought  forever  averted,  by 
the  most  cautious  of  planning,  the  most  doleful  of 
sacrifices.  Was  it  to  have  been  imagined  that  his 
punishment  would  follow  him  in  this  of  all  other 
forms  —  follow  him  through  his  daughter?  Nothing 
was  more  probable  than  that  the  violent  end  of  Va- 
remberg would  be  heard  of  at  any  moment.  And 
here  was  this  honorable  lover,  to  whom  his  daughter 
had  never  been  indifferent,  returned  and  ready  to  re- 
new his  suit. 

"  Heaven  knows  it  is  no  malice  of  mine,  but  his 
own  interest.  I  must  and  will  always  oppose  him!  " 
he  cried  despairingly.  "  Have  I  not  done  him  harm 
enough  ?  He  shall  never  marry  her." 

Some  others,  perhaps,  might  think  it  the  best  of  all 
reparations  that  the  son  of  the  man  who  was  slain 
should  be  allowed  to  wed  his  heart's  desire,  the 


114  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

daughter  of  the  slayer,  a  noble  and  lovable  creature 
in  lierself,  and  the  dearest  thing  in  life  to  her  father. 
Sell-protection,  too,  would  have  dictated  this  policy 
to  David  Lane,  but  he  had  never  inclined  to  it. 
There  was  an  element  of  the  exalted  and  unpractical 
in  his  course ;  he  was  not  seeking  his  personal  safety. 
He  would  have  no  marriage  with  such  a  Nemesis  on 
its  track  !  Barclay  ought  not  to  be  allowed  to  unite 
himself  with  them.  He  would  awake  some  day  to 
the  discovery  that  his  wife  had  been  used  as  a  bait 
and  a  snare  to  tie  his  hands  against  the  just  retribu- 
tion he  would  have  demanded,  awake  perhaps  to 
loathe  as  much  as  he  had  once  fancied  he  loved  her. 

This  feeling,  misguided  perhaps,  and  fraught  al- 
ready with  the  bitter  consequence  of  the  foreign  mar- 
riage, had  been  the  ruling  force  and  motive  of  the 
destiny  of  David  Lane  for  years,  and  he  still  grimly 
adhered  to  it.  It  was  his  bias  of  mind,  his  whim,  his 
hallucination  or  mania,  perhaps ;  but  so  he  was  con- 
stituted, so  he  had  begun,  and  he  could  not  change. 
It  must  be  counted  with  as  an  inevitable  part  of  his 
character. 

He  went  to  his  home  by  way  of  the  City  Hall 
Square,  and,  as  he  hobbled  along  the  promenade  he 
turned  his  eyes  upward  to  the  Golden  Justice.  There 
had  been  times,  during  his  stay  abroad,  when  he  had 
afl  but  forgotten  its  existence,  with  both  his  crime 
and  his  eccentric  reparation.  It  would  be  recalled  to 
him,  perchance,  by  some  accident  of  travel,  some 
faint  resemblance  to  this  in  a  foreign  building,  or 
some  gilded  saint  gleaming  afar,  as  from  the  basilicas 


TUB   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  115 

on  the  plain  of  Lombardy.  Even  at  home  it  had 
often  lapsed  into  a  certain  vagueness.  But  now,  since 
the  arrival  of  this  young  man,  his  memory  ,was  jogged 
indeed  ;  his  sense  of  what  the  image  conveyed  was  re- 
newed in  all  its  vividness. 

"  I  gave  my  pledge  to  Justice  to  respond  whenever 
she  should  call  me.  Is  the  fulfillment  of  the  pledge 
about  to  be  exacted  ?  "  he  speculated  mournfully. 

Often,  too,  had  he  wished  the  fateful  paper  down 
again  and  safe  in  his  own  possession,  and  now,  as  he 
gazed,  this  feeling  was  intensely  revived.  His  burn- 
ing glance  seemed  as  if  it  would  go  straight  to  the 
heart  of  the  secret,  and  consume  it  where  it  lay. 

"  Dry  rot  has  perhaps  destroyed  it  by  this  time," 
he  speculated ;  "  or  moisture  penetrated  to  it,  through 
some  crevice,  and  caused  it  to  disappear  in  mildew  and 
mould." 

Then  he  returned  to  his  house,  and  sat  by  his  win- 
dow, as  was  so  often  his  wont,  and  still  gazed  wist- 
fully at  the  Golden  Justice,  showing  above  the  forest 
of  shade  trees  interspersed  among  the  dwellings. 

Paul  Barclay  looked  up  one  day  from  his  writing, 
and  inspected  a  card  handed  him  by  a  very  light-com- 
plexioned  young  man,  of  energetic  aspect,  wearing  a 
slouch  hat  and  cloak.  The  card  bore  the  inscrip- 
tion, "  Welby  B.  Goff,  Local  Ed.  Keewaydin  Index." 
This  visitor  spoke  first  of  the  general  state  of  the 
country,  of  the  approaching  close  of  navigation,  the 
quantity  of  wheat  in  store,  and  the  heavy  condi- 
tion of  the  country  roads,  that  rendered  collections 


116  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

difficult,  then  finally  came  down  to  the  business  he 
had  in  hand. 

"  The  Index  is  getting  up  a  series  of  articles  on  the 
*  Industries  of  Keewaydin,'  "  said  he,  "  and  your  place 
will  naturally  figure  among  the  most  prominent.  We 
make  it  a  point  always  to  send  to  headquarters  for 
our  information.  The  Index,  as  you  know,  has  a  cir- 
culation larger  than  all  its  contemporaries  combined, 
and  it  aims  to  be  strictly  accurate." 

Barclay  recollected  the  hint  he  had  already  got 
from  the  editor-in-chief,  and  good  humoredly  acceded 
to  the  scheme,  partly  because  the  Index  was  Ives 
Wilson's  paper,  and  partly  because  he  was  not  really 
averse  to  having  his  new  enterprise  described  in  print 
in  a  form  which  he  might  send  to  some  of  his  friends 
at  a  distance.  He  therefore  accompanied  the  reporter 
about  the  factory  in  person,  and  took  great  pains  to 
supply  him  with  the  proper  information.  He  was  also 
led  to  consider  having  an  advertisement  of  much  lar- 
ger size  than  the  one  first  proposed  ;  and  when  an  in- 
genuous new  proprietor  once  begins  to  "  figure  "  with 
a  wily  agent  in  this  kind  of  wares,  he  is  extremely 
likely  to  do  very  much  more  than  he  expected. 

"  The  price  draws  blood,"  said  Welby  Goff,  as  he 
put  up  his  pencil,  after  booking  a  highly  profitable 
contract,  '•  but  I  've  done  it,  and  I  '11  stick  to  it.  Only 
I  '11  ask  you  as  a  special  favor  not  to  mention  it  to 
any  one  else ;  it  would  ruin  us." 

In  due  time  the  article  appeared.  It  proved  a 
tissue  of  exaggerations  from  beginning  to  end  ;  every 
figure  was  at  least  doubled,  and  hardly  an  adjective 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  117 

was  used  under  the  superlative  degree.  The  stamped- 
ware  factory  was  called  "  one  of  the  marvels  of  the 
age,"  and  the  new  partner,  "  Paul  Barclay,  Esq.," 
was  said  to  have  "  prepared  himself  expressly  for 
his  present  duties  by  a  long  arid  exhaustive  course  of 
travel,  study,  and  scientific  research  among  similar  es- 
tablishments." 

Barclay  hurried  round  to  the  Index,  in  a  rage,  and 
found  Ives  Wilson  immersed  to  the  eyes  in  scissored 
"  exchanges,"  in  a  stuffy  little  office.  The  editor  at 
first  thought  he  had  come  to  make  a  complaint  of  the 
totally  opposite  character. 

"  My  own  idea  of  an  article  of  this  kind,"  said  he, 
when  undeceived,  "is  that  the  person  it  is  written 
about  should  be  ashamed  to  read  it.  I  told  Goff  to  do 
the  handsome  thing  by  you,  and  I  suppose  he  has  put 
it  fairly  strong." 

f  "  But  it  is  absurd  ;  we  are  made  ridiculous,"  pro- 
tested Barclay.  "  We  have  n't  half  that  number  of 
men  at  the  factory ;  they  do  not  work  '  night  and 
day  ; '  the  total  product  turned  out  is  not "  — 

"  Readers  want  statements  of  a  bold,  impressive, 
well-rounded  sort ;  they  have  no  real  taste  for  little 
matters,  but  want  to  hear  about  things  on  a  great 
scale.  We  give  them  what  they  ask  for,  and  they 
are  quite  capable  of  making  their  own  discounts." 

This  was  all  .the  satisfaction  to  be  obtained,  and 
Barclay  was  fain  to  content  himself  with  suppressing 
his  part  of  the  edition,  and  resolving  to  see  to  it  that 
any  future  literature  of  the  kind,  of  which  he  might 
have  need,  should  be  conceived  after  a  less  highly 


US  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

florid  model.  While  at  the  office  of  the  Index,  on 
this  visit,  he  met  with  one  further  instance  of  what 
readers  might  "  expect "  that  tended  to  amuse  and  to 
distract  him  from  his  own  annoyance.  A  small  Eng- 
lish-looking man,  of  a  shabby  look,  wearing  a  hat 
many  seasons  out  of  the  mode,  came  rushing  in  an- 
grily, and  extended  a  copy  of  the  paper  at  full  length 
with  one  hand,  while  he  tapped  a  certain  article  in  it 
with  the  other.  The  article  bore  the  flaming  "head- 
lines,  "  A  Much-Married  Impostqr  of  the  South  Side. 
A  Bogus  Doctor  Skips  the  Town."'  It  referred  to 
him,  it  appeared ;  it  had  met  his  eye  as  far  away  as 
Kansas  City,  and  he  had  come  back,  he  said,  to  deny 
the  unwarranted  aspersion,  and  spend,  if  need  be, 
his  last  dollar  in  the  prosecution  of  its  author.  Ives 
Wilson,  in  a  diplomatic  way,  begged  the  visitor  to  sit 
down,  which  he  indignantly  refused  to  do.  The  ed- 
itor then  whistled  up  the  speaking-tube  to  the  cona- 
posing-room  for  Welby  Goff  to  ascertain  the  true 
status  of  the  offending  article.  Welby  Goff,  coming 
down,  wrinkled  his  brows,  as  in  reflection. 

"  I  seem  to  recollect  something  of  this,"  said  he, 
"  and  yet,  again  —  I  don't  know.  Surely  there  must 
be  some  means  of  tracing  it.  I  know  we  can.  Would 
you  kindly  step  in  again  in  a  few  days  ?  " 

"  Days  ? "  cried  the  complainant,  with  a  fierce 
glare. 

"  Or  a  week,  then,"  blandly.  "  If  it  should  prove 
that  the  Index  has  done  you  injustice,  if  this  article 
has  been  contributed  by  an  outsider,  if  we  have  been 
imposed  upon  by  any  personal  enemy  of  yours,  of 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  119 

course  the  —  the  Index  will  see  you  righted.  Do 
you  know,"  confidentially,  "the  abuses  that  some- 
times creep  into  the  press  in  these  matters  are  simply 
infamous.  In  your  case,  my  dear  sir,  I  should  prob- 
ably feel  exactly  as  you  do." 

The  visitor,  who  was  really  a  person  of  question- 
able standing,  no  doubt  with  certain  shady  features 
in  his  record,  was  little  by  little  mollified  by  treat- 
ment of  this  sort,  and  left  the  office,  agreeing  to  wait 
till  justice  was  done  him. 

"  I  wrote  it  myself,"  said  Welby  Goff,  gleefully,  to 
Barclay,  as  soon*  as  the  man's  back  was  turned. 
"  It 's  the  gospel  truth,  too,  —  at  least,  I  think  it  is. 
Any  way,  there  's  a  certain  amount  of  truth  in  it. 
Of  course  I  had  to  put  him  off  a  little  at  first,  being 
tackled  all  at  once,  that  way.  I  '11  keep  it  up  for  a 
while,  till  I  can  look  up  some  more  information  to 
lay  him  out  with.  I  'm  pretty  sure  I  can,  and  then 
we  '11  give  him  a  worse  deal  than  before." 

Barclay  saw  comparatively  little  of  Mrs.  Varem- 
berg  in  these  earliest  days.  His  new  status  as  a  res- 
ident of  the  place  did  not  seem  to  warrant  a  contin- 
uance of  the  close  intimacy  of  the  brief  preliminary 
visit.  The  coolness  of  his  relations  with  her  father, 
his  real  devotion  to  his  new  undertaking ;  together 
with  the  natural  considerations  of  pi'opriety  and  good 
judgment  that  would  occur  to  Mrs.  Varemberg  as 
well,  all  contributed  to  this  result. 

The  window  of  his  chamber  gave  upon  the  quiet 
City  Hall  Park,  where  he  could  descry  her  likeness, 
in  the  guise  of  the  Golden  Justice.  He  now  got  out 


.ir>Ticr. 

his  field-glass  —  an  exceptionally  good  one  that  had 
served  him  well  in  his  travels,  had  looked  at  macro- 
cosms and  microcosms,  at  a  famous  beauty  in  her 
opera-box,  and  down  into  the  seething  heart  of  a  vol- 
cano—  and  added  to  the  many  sights,  both  fair  and 
wondrous,  it  had  taken  in,  a  close  study  of  this  statue. 
He  would  take  up  the  glass  sometimes  when  at  his 
books,  and  direct  at  it  a  long  and  earnest  gaze.  The 
Golden  Justice  was  his  exalted  companion  in  the 
brief  hours  of  daylight  he  passed  at  this  window, 
engaged  in  a  heavy  course  of  reading  he  had  begun. 
He  was  reviewing  and  extending  his  acquaintance 
with  socialistic  works  of  all  kinds,  his  quick  good 
sense  detecting  their  fallacies,  while  his  imagination 
often  sighed  over  the  Utopias  of  human  happiness 
they  presented.  His  thoughts  would  shoot  off.  arrow- 
like,  to  that  shining  mark,  and  glancing  thence  fall 
to  Mrs.  Varemberg,  often  crossing,  no  doubt,  those 
of  David  Lane,  similarly  occupied. 

Barclay  said  to  himself  that  he  was  glad  she  was 
there, —  glad  she  should  be  thus  raised  aloft  above 
the  city,  as  its  emblem  of  right  and  justice.  There 
was  something  grand  in  the  apotheosis;  it  was  in 
keeping  with  his  worship  of  her,  his  enchantment  of 
other  days,  and  it  added  dignity  to  that  far-off  love. 
He  distinguished  with  his  glass  the  proud  and  noble 
poise  of  the  head,  under  its  golden  helmet,  the  subtle, 
reassuring  smile  that  wreathed  the  features.  They 
were  the  features  of  her  blooming,  untroubled  girl- 
hood, showing  a  character  far  less  deep  and  serious, 
less  tempered  by  experience,  than  at  present;  but 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  121 

she  was  for  that  reason  only  the  more  goddess-like, 
since  a  traditional  property  of  the  gods  is  untroubled 
calm.  Nor  was  it  needed  that  the  model  who  had  so 
well  served  the  artist  as  his  inspiration  should  have 
herself  possessed  all  the  grave  and  tragic  qualities  he 
would  depict ;  were  it  so,  the  plastic  arts  must  soon 
come  to  a  stand-still.  She  had  been  a  point  of  de- 
parture such  as  is  rarely  met  with,  and  the  imagina- 
tion of  the  spectator  was  to  do  the  rest. 

With  the  passing  of  the  seasons,  with  the  varying 
days  and  times  of  day,  and  perhaps  even  the  personal 
moods  of  the  looker-on,  the  Golden  Justice  seemed 
to  take  many  different  aspects.  Now  she  half  melted 
into  the  delicious  skies  of  autumn,  now  showed 
through  light  mists,  like  flame  behind  a  screen  of 
gauze.  She  was  harsh  and  coppery  in  the  cold  bleak- 
ness of  November  ;  she  seemed  yellow,  burnished 
gold  against  the  background  of  some  opaque  blue  fir- 
mament of  winter;  she  glared  lurid  and  threatening 
as  an  angel  of  wrath  in  the  red  sunsets ;  and,  again, 
would  twinkle  as  with  merriment,  under  the  shifting 
lights  and  shadows  of  the  glorious  clbud-masses  of  the 
spring-time.  Even  on  obscure  nights,  as  has  been 
said,  some  wandering  star-beam,  some  vestige  of  the 
radiance  that  is  never  wholly  extinguished  from  the 
universe,  would  seek  her  out  and  indicate  her  posi- 
tion. Barclay  noted,  as  a  peculiar  feature,  that  she 
was  the  most  distinctly  seen  on  dark  days ;  every  lin- 
eament and  fold  of  her  drapery  then  came  out  against 
the  favoring  ground  of  leaden  gray,  while  in  clear 
sunshine  she  was  apt  to  be  obliterated  in  a  general 
duzzte. 


122  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

"That  is  as  it  should  be,"  said  he.  "Justice  should 
show  the  most  clearly  in  time  of  adversity  and  trial ; 
if  she  conceal  her  face  at  all,  let  it  be  when  all  goes 
well." 

He  little  knew,  as  yet,  the  stake  she  held  for  him, 
and  what  it  really  might  have  been,  even  apart  from 
the  features  of  his  lost  love,  that  led  him  to  the  close 
study  of  this  figure  and  the  discovery  of  all  these  fine 
distinctions. 

If  he  did  not  see  Mrs.  Vavemberg  often,  their 
friendship  and  a  wholesome  feeling  of  good-comrade- 
ship between  them  were  certainly  renewed.  Mrs. 
Varemberg  seemed  to  find  an  unusual  content  in -this 
element  that  had  come  into  her  life,  and  an  unwonted 
animation  arising  out  of  it  perhaps  accounted,  on 
some  of  her  "  well  days,"  for  an  ephemeral  recovery 
of  her  looks,  an  aspect  almost  of  health,  that  was  to 
be  noted  in  her.  She  still  appeared  to  Barclay,  in 
truth,  a  beautiful,  lovable  woman.  Her  type,  marked 
by  its  perpetual  pensiveness  or  sadness,  reminded  him 
of  those  sweet,  candid,  and  noble  figures  of  Raphael's 
earlier  period.  By  some  inspiration  of  natural  grace, 
she  seemed  to  him  to  fall  always  into  the  attitudes 
most  becoming  to  her.  She  did  everything  with  a 
certain  refined  deliberation,  an  absence  of  excitability, 
growing  partly  out  of  her  invalidism,  and  partly  out 
of  an  innate  dignity,  that  gave  all  her  movements  an 
indescribable,  fascinating  quality  of  rhythm. 

She  bantered  him  about  his  enthusiasms  and  his 
project,  called  him  Wat  Tyler  and  Caius  Gracchus, 
pretended  that  he  was  an  incendiary  person,  about  to 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  123 

upheave  the  foundations  of  society.  But  she  was  se- 
cretly pleased,  notwithstanding,  with  all  he  told  her ; 
for,  after  living  so  long  in  darkness,  apathy,  distrust, 
and  skepticism,  she  was  disposed  to  be  pleased  with 
anything  that  was  believing,  strong,  positive,  and 
hopeful. 

"Yours  is  not  the  indulgent  ear  into  which  a  re- 
former could  pour  all  his  pet  follies,"  Barclay  had 
objected,  to  her  at  first. 

"  Try  me,"  she  answered  gayly  ;  "  you  do  not  half 
know  how  indulgent  I  can  be." 

She  soon  became,  in  fact,  the  trusted  confidante  of 
most  of  his  doings.  By  her  own  wish,  she  one  day, 
accompanied  by  her  aunt,  paid  a  visit  to  the  Works. 
To  Barclay  she  seemed  to  consecrate  the  dry,  rude 
place,  and  ever  after  he  thought  better  of  his  oflice, 
since  she  had  blessed  it  with  the  charm  of  her  pres- 
ence, since  she  had  sat  upon  the  high  stool  and  toyed 
with  the  heavy  ruler. 

"  You  speak  as  one  having  authority.  You  say 
'  go,'  and  he  goeth  ;  and  '  come,'  and  he  cometh,"  she 
said  to  him  in  raillery,  noting  the  many  subordinates 
who  came  to  make  reports  and  receive  orders  from 
him,  and  the  profound  deference  with  which  he  was 
treated  on  all  hands.  "  I  declare  I  don't  know  whether 
it  is  quite  safe  to  trust  you  with  such  arbitrary  pow- 
ers ;  I  am  not  sure  you  do  not  begin  to  have  an 
odiously  overbearing  way  with  you  already." 

"  There  is  no  pressing  danger  of  any  unnecessary 
conceit."  And  he  proceeded  to  describe  to  her  some 
of  his  difficulties,  —  traditions  arising  out  of  the  asso- 


124  TUE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

elation  with  trades-unions,  and  the  like,  which  the 
most  despotic  of  authority  could  not  overcome. 

"  I  warn  you  to  expect  plenty  of  ingratitude,"  his 
young  visitor  cautioned  him,  in  a  mentor-like  way. 

'•Ingratitude  is  a  part  of  the  disease;  they  are 
probably  too  much  absorbed  in  their  own  troubles, 
as  yet,  to  have  much  time  for  anything  else.  I  look 
neither  for  gratitude  nor  ingratitude ;  I  take  the  peo- 
ple as  I  find  them." 

"  It  would  sometimes  be  much  better  to  leave 
them  as  you  find  them.  You  may  have  to  come  to 
that.  But  I  refuse  to  quarrel  with  you.  Are  you 
not  going  to  show  me  your  favorite  proteges  ?  " 

So  Barclay  took  the  ladies  about,  and  indicated  to 
them  a  few  persons  ,upon  whom  he  had  already  cast 
an  eye  with  a  view  to  the  improvement  of  their  con- 
dition. In  the  first  place,  there  was  one  Martin 
Krieg,  a  small  apprentice  lad,  black  as  a  powder- 
monkey,  who  concealed  a  real  shyness  under  a  quaint 
imitation  of  the  surly  manner  affected  by  some  of  the 
older  workmen.  Barclay  had  Martin  Krieg  show  a 
specimen  of  drawing  he  had  made  quite  without  in- 
struction, and  said  he  thought  of  giving  the  boy  ad- 
vantages for  cultivating  the  decided  bent  he  seemed 
to  show  in  that  direction.  Next  was  McClary,  a 
hollow-chested,  round-shouldered  young  man,  with  a 
sickly  face,  who  stood  in  a  stooping  position,  engaged 
in  filing  brass  work. 

"  He  is  a  good  workman  and  an  honest  fellow," 
said  Barclay  ;  "  he  is  temperate,  economical,  indus- 
trious with  an  assiduity  that  spares  himself  least  of 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  125 

all,  —  but  look  at  him.  Ho  files  away,  like  that,  day 
in  and  day  out ;  takes  night  work,  too,  whenever  he 
can  get  it ;  and  even  asks  for  more  to  take  home  over 
holidays." 

"  Why,  he  is  killing  himself  by  inches." 

"  Almost  by  feet,  rather." 

"  Why  will  he  do  it  ?  " 

"  It  is  a  misguided  ambition.  It  is  a  good  enough 
motive  at  bottom  ;  I  quite  appreciate  it.  He  aspires 
to  a  shop  and  house  of  his  own,  and  says  there  is  no 
other  way  to  get  them.  He  married  a  trim,  nice- 
looking  girl,  who  worked  in  a  paper-box  factory. 
With  their  two  small  children  they  live  in  two  poor 
rooms  in  a  tenement-house,  and  his  wife  ekes  out 
their  scanty  subsistence  by  taking  a  couple  of  me- 
chanic boarders.  But  you  are  not  interested  in  these 
petty  details  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  find  them  very  interesting." 

"  I  hear  of  a  touch  of  jealousy,  too,  arising  out  of 
one  of  these  boarders.  The  wife,  fast  losing  her  good 
looks,  and  becoming  a  mere  drudge,  was  driven  to 
seek  a  bit  of  relaxation  in  some  quarter,  I  suppose, 
and  let  this  man  take  her  to  the  theatre  a  few  times. 
Her  husband  was  wild  about  it." 

"  That  is  one  of  the  dangers  of  such  a  situation,  I 
suppose  ?  " 

"  Under  the  pressure  of  his  fierce  ambition,  Mc- 
Clary  is  probably  as  penurious  with  her  as  with  him- 
self, and,  with  his  poor  health  added,  cannot  be  the 
most  agreeable  companion  in  the  world.  And  this 
McClary,  I  want  you  to  observe,  is  one  of  the  better 
class  of  workmen." 


126  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

*'  Why  don't  you  talk  to  him  ?  " 

"  I  have  talked  to  him." 

"  Well,  what  are  you  going  to  do  ?  " 

"  What  would  you  do  ?  What  do  you  advise  ?  " 
he  asked,  trying  her. 

"  Raise  his  pay  ?  "  she  suggested,  doubtfully.  "  But 
dear  me  !  don't  ask  me  anything ;  I  have  n't  a  parti- 
cle of  imagination." 

"  We  have  stretched  a  point  in  that  direction  ;  but 
to  pay  a  man  more  than  he  is  really  worth  can  be  no 
permanent  resource.  Oh,  this  monster  of  political 
economy,  —  how  inexorable  it  is  !  Absolute  right  of 
every  workman  to  sell  his  labor  for  all  he  can  get, 
absolute  right  of  every  employer  to  buy  labor  for  as 
little  as  he  can  pay,  —  nobody  to  blame,  and  yet 
what  a  slaughter  of  happiness  and  lives  ! " 

"  The  improvement  of  his  health  would  seem  to  be 
the  first  thing  to  attend  to ;  then,  his  family  arrange- 
ments." 

"  Good !  so  it  seemed  to  me,  also.  He  is  to  be 
drafted  into  the  packing-room  at  easier  work,  and  I 
have  arranged  to  move  them  out  of  their  tenement- 
house  into  a  cottage,  which  they  can  have  at  even 
lower  rent,  and  where  they  can  get  rid  of  the  board- 
ers." 

These  may  be  received  as  fair  ordinary  examples 
of  the  way  the  young  proprietor  aimed  to  lend  a 
helping  hand  to  those  who  helped  themselves,  to  ex- 
tend it  at  the  proper  time,  and  to  keep  his  proteges 
out  of  the  gutter  instead  of  waiting  till  they  were 
fairly  in  it  to  raise  them.  If  his  partner,  Maxwell, 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  127 

was  disposed  to  criticise  any  of  this  as  unbusiness- 
like, he  gladly  paid  the  extra  cost  from  his  own  pock- 
et ;  and  he  defended  it  on  the  ground  that,  by  ren- 
dering the  hands  thoroughly  contented,  he  would 
bring  them  up  to  a  greatly  improved  standard  of  effi- 
ciency, and  get  more  work  out  of  them  than  had  ever 
been  known  before. 

There  are  usually  "  characters  "  of  one  sort  and 
another  in  an  establishment  of  the  kind.  Under  this 
head  of  a  "  character,"  one  Fahnenstock  was  pre- 
sented to  the  guests.  He  was  a  slow-speaking,  rusty 
old  fellow,  the  veteran  of  the  shops.  In  long  years 
of  service  he  had  never  become  a  thoroughly  skilled 
workman,  nor  indeed  risen  but  a  few  steps  above  the 
point  at  which  he  started. 

"  Some  of  'em  can't,"  said  the  foreman,  Akins,  in 
explanation.  "  It 's  like  playin'  a  good  game  o'  bill- 
iards, or  anything  o'  that  kind ;  it  takes  knack ; 
some  has  got  it  in  'em,  and  some  has  n't,  and  you 
can't  put  it  there.  Most  of  'em  that  I  deal  with  get 
just  about  so  fur,  and  there  they  stick,  and  forty 
yoke  of  oxen  could  n't  drag  'em  an  inch  ahead." 

Akins  had  all  the  confidence  of  a  rudely  success- 
ful man,  and  showed  but  little  patience  with  his  less 
efficient  and  less  fortunate  brethren. 

"  It's  no  trick  at  all  to  get  a  livin',"  said  he.  "It 's 
never  been  so  to  me ;  I  've  always  found  it  easy 
enough.  There  's  parties  round  here,  with  a  crazy 
German  paper,  that  tells  the  men  it  is  n't,  and  they 
ought  to  strike,  and  make  folks  that 's  got  more  than 
they  have  divide  up  with  'em.  My  idee  is  that  that 


128  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

style  o'  papers  ought  to  be  shut  up.  I  s'pose.  though, 
it 's  a  good  deal  like  blowiu'  off  powder  iu  an  open 
lot ;  it  can't  hurt  nobody.  Hoolan,  over  there,"  in- 
dicating a  saturnine-looking  man  at  a  work-bench, 
"  he 's  one  o'  them  red-flag  fellers,  I  guess." 

Foreman  Akins  went  on  to  say,  furthermore,  that, 
in  his  belief,  things  were  better  for  the  workingman 
when  times  were  rather  hard  and  wages  compara- 
tively low.  "  He  knows  he  can't  get  a  place  most 
anywheres,  then,"  said  he,  "  and  he  sticks  to  the  one 
he  has.  You  can  depend  onto  him  more  ;  he  'tends 
steadier  to  his  work ;  and  if  he  don't  make  quite  so 
much  money,  he  don't  drink  up  so  much  o'  what  he 
has  got  as  when  times  is  flush." 

Old  Fahnenstock,  being  induced  to  talk,  aired, 
among  other  things,  some  peculiar  religious  views  of 
his  own.  His  cardinal  doctrine  was  the  speedy  de- 
struction of  the  world.  He  would  argue  this  topic 
by  the  hour,  expounding  from  the  law  and  the  proph- 
ets, chiefly  the  prophet  Daniel.  The  beast  with 
the  ten  horns,  the  one  with  teeth  and  claws  of  iron, 
the  little  horn  that  sprung  out  from  the  greater,  the 
ram  that  pushed  against  the  west,  Alexander,  Caesar, 
Napoleon,  the  Pope,  the  Sultan,  and  the  Czar,  all 
had  their  place  in  his  system,  together  with  contem- 
porary portents  of  all  kinds,  great  and  small. 

"  I  don't  see  how  we  can  last  longer  than  this  year 
—  or  next  —  any  way,"  he  said.  "  The  Rooshian 
is  going  to  drive  the  Turk  out  o'  Europe.  Ain't  he 
doin'  it  now?  And  ain't  it  as  clear  as  crystil  that 
that 's  the  last  waruin'  sign  ?  " 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  129 

His  comrades  reported  that  he  had  more  than  once 
already  fixed  the  date,  and  gone  up  on  the  roof  of 
his  boarding-house  and  flapped  his  arms  in  imitation 
of  wings,  endeavoring  to  fly,  but  part  of  this  may 
have  been  only  their  waggish  invention. 

In  curious  contrast  with  his  dismal  prognostics  for 
the  universe  was  his  desire  to  possess  a  certain  small 
house  and  bit  of  land  at  Whitefish  Bay.  It  was  an 
aspiration  for  which  he  had  long  hoarded  his  sav- 
ings ;  he  meant  to  fish,  to  cultivate  vegetables  there, 
and  make  the  spot  the  retreat  of  his  old  age,  when 
he  should  retire  from  the  factory.  This  small  prop- 
erty, sometimes  in  the  market,  and  then  withdrawn 
again,  had  advanced  in  value  at  a  greater  pace  than 
his  accumulations,  and  was  now  about  a  thousand 
dollars  ahead  of  him. 

"  I  should  like  to  ha'  married,  too,  if  it  was  so  's 
I  could.  I  can't  say  I  've  ever  had  what  I  should  ha' 
considered  the  best  in  this  world,"  he  went  on,  with 
a  kind  of  patient  smile  that  Mrs.  Varemberg  consid- 
ered pathetic.  "  They  call  them  improvident  that 
plunges  into  it  whether  or  no,  but  sometimes  I  've 
thought  may  be  /  'd  better  ben  improvident,  too ; 
there 's  just  about  so  much  trouble  to  live  through, 
no  matter  which  way  you  fix  it.  But  all  that 's  too 
late  now,  for  an  old  party  like  me." 

"  Oh,  I  'm  sure,  Mr.  Fahnenstock,  you  're  still  a 
very  young-looking  man,"  protested  Mrs.  Varemberg. 

"Well,  marm,"  said  the  veteran,  much  pleased,  at 
least,  if  not  convinced,  "  I  'm  glad  there 's  them  as 
thinks  so.  I  suppose  it  would  n't  do  for  us  to  have 


i:;o  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

things  just  as  we  wanted  'em  in  this  mundane  spear, 
or  we  would  n't  want  to  leave  it.  But  I  tell  you 
we  've  got  to  do  it  pretty  quick  now,  and  in  short 
order." 

The  talk  was  rather  more  sober  when  they  went 
over  to  Hoolau,  described  as  one  of  the  "red-flag 
fellers."  He  was  a  small,  spare  man,  with  high 
cheek-bones,  and  skin  yellowed  as  by  jaundice.  He 
was  distrustful  and  disposed,  at  first,  to  waive  all  dis- 
cussion. He  thought  it  idle,  so  far  as  the  conver- 
sion of  persons  with  such  fixed  and  supercilious  opin- 
ions as  these,  and  also  personally  dangerous  for  one 
in  his  situation.  He  was  lured  into  it,  however,  by 
pleasant  arts  and  small  controversial  traps  slyly  set 
for  him  by  Mrs.  Varemberg.  When  asked  as  to  the 
condition  and  prospects  of  the  laboring  man,  he  drew 
but  a  gloomy  picture. 

"  The  mechanic  don't  live  out  half  his  days,"  he 
said.  "  He 's  old  before  his  time,  good  for  nothing  to 
work,  and-  ready  to  be  planted  away,  just  as  others 
is  gettin'  ready  to  live.  Look  at  Fahnenstock.  He 
ain't  more  than  fifty  yet,  but  you  'd  take  him  for  sev- 
enty." 

"  And  how  is  old  age  provided  for?  "  Mrs.  Varem- 
berg inquired. 

"  It  ain't  provided  for.  If  a  man  has  had  a  family 
to  bring  up,  he  has  n't  had  no  chance  to  save  any- 
thing ;  and,  by  that  time,  his  children  have  all  they 
can  do  to  take  care  of  themselves.  So  when  he  is 
too  old  to  work,  he  's  turned  out  to  starve.  May  be 
he  gets  a  light  place  somewhere  as  night-watchman 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  131 

for  a  while,  but  more  like  he  goes  to  the  poor- 
house." 

"  What  means  had  you  thought  of  by  which  things 
could  be  made  better  ?  " 

"  Congress  ought  to  pass  a  law." 

He  was  evidently  unwilling  to  let  out  any  of  the 
more  violent  socialistic  theories  he  was  said  to  enter- 
tain. 

"  What  kind  of  a  law  ?  " 

"  A  law  to  give  every  man  a  fair  day's  wages  for  a 
fair  day's  work." 

"  Would  that  not  be  a  rather  difficult  matter  for 
Congress  to  determine  ?  " 

"  Yes,  made  up  of  money  kings,  as  it  is  now  :  but 
the  workin'  classes  has  got  to  get  control  of  legis- 
lation themselves.  Labor  has  got  to  be  unified  and 
stand  together." 

Hoolan  went  on  to  complain  of  "  piece-work  "  as 
an  agency  particularly  hard  on  the  men,  and  largely 
responsible  for  their  crippled  condition.  It  over- 
stimulated  effort,  he  said,  drove  them  up  to  an  im- 
possible standard.  The  employers  would  try  it  long 
enough  to  find  out  what  they  could  do,  and  then,  re- 
turning to  the  old  plan,  tried  to  make  this  the  rule 
for  an  ordinary  day's  work ;  and  so  the  pressure  was 
increasing  to  an  intolerable  degree,  while  wages  as 
constantly  declined. 

"  I  had  often  wondered  what  became  of  the  older 
mechanics,"  said  Mrs.  Varemberg ;  "  you  so  rarely 
see  any  of  them  about." 

"  No,"  responded  the  saturnine  Hoolan  ;  "all  you 
see  is  precious  young  and  frisky  ones." 


132  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

'•  I  'm  sure  I  don't  half  see  what  it 's  all  about," 
said  Mrs.  Clinton,  wearily,  as  they  went  away ;  but 
Mrs.  Varemberg  carried  with  her  an  interest  in  these 
men,  and  a  new  appreciation  of  the  problem,  that 
made  her  a  much  more  valuable  assistant  to  Barclay. 


VII. 

A   RANDOM   PROPHECY. 

SOMEWHAT  like  Rasselas,  Prince  of  Abyssinia, 
Barclay  aspired  also  "  to  grow  acquainted  with  all 
who  had  anything  unusual  in  their  fortune  or  con- 
duct." The  many  foreign  nationalities  represented  in 
the  place  appeared  to  him  a  considerable  source  of 
interest.  Recollections  of  their  scenery  and  tradi- 
tions at  home  invested  even  the  poorest  of  them  with 
a  touch  of  romance,  whereas  he  found  the  common 
order  of  Americans  looking  down  upon  all  alike  with 
an  ignorant  prejudice  and  disdain. 

He  went  to  the  German  theatre,  and  an  amateur 
play  at  the  Bohemian  Turn-halle.  He  passed,  in  his 
observing  way,  among  the  small,  neat  shops  and  cot- 
tages of  the  German  quarter,  tenanted  by  a  most 
industrious  and  thrifty  population.  A  part  of  this 
district  was  on  the  way  to  the  factory.  The  sign 
"  English  spoken  here "  was  sometimes  seen,  and 
pots  of  flowers  in  the  cottage  windows  showed  that 
humble  striving  after  beauty  amidst  adverse  surround- 
ings that  appeals  to  the  kindly  heart.  A  broom- 
maker  had  set  up  three  crossed  brooms  on  a  post  be- 
fore his  door,  recalling  the  sign  of  that  Dutch  admiral 
who  swept  the  seas.  Next  him,  an  ancient  lightning- 
rod  and  weather-vane  maker  exhibited,  in  his  small 


l.'U  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

window,  gilded  yachts,  birds,  and  fishes,  the  famous 
Dexter  trotting  at  full  speed,  leaping  stags,  short- 
horn cows,  and  a  profusion  of  other  specimens  of  his 
handiwork. 

Barclay,  having  occasion  to  order  something  con- 
nected with  the  lightning-rods  of  his  factory,  entered 
this  latter  establishment.  He  found  the  proprietor 
to  be  a  Dane,  one  Ole  Alfsen,  a  garrulous  old  fellow, 
who  professed  to  be  a  weather-prophet,  and  was  much 
inclined  to  boast  of  his  exploits  of  former  days.  A 
son  of  his,  William  Alfsen,  came  in  while  Barclay 
was  there,  to  bid  his  father  good-by.  He  was  just 
setting  off,  as  it  appeared,  for  a  voyage  in  his  own 
sloop,  the  South  Side  Belle. 

"  I  have  try  first  to  make  that  boy  a  mechanic," 
said  the  father,  taking  the  pains  incidentally  to  ex- 
plain some  traits  of  this  son,  "  but  I  have  to  give  it 
up ;  he  bin  a  natural-born  sailor.  It  come  by  his 
mother's  family.  William  used  to  sail  round  with  his 
uncle,  what  was  a  captain  and  brother  of  my  wife,  in 
the  old  country,  when  he  was  a  small  kid  ;  and  once 
he  was  a  couple  o'  years  in  one  o'  them  navy-yards, 
workin'  round  the  big  guns." 

"  He  's  a  strong,  manly-looking  young  fellow,"  said 
Barclay.  "  I  trust  he  is  successful." 

"  Well,  he  was  pooty  successful  at  first,  but  not  so 
good  now.  He  used  to  go  over,  with  a  load  o'  small 
goods,  to  them  Fox  and  Manitou  Islands  aud  Boy 
Blank  [Bois  Blanc]  way,  and  Grand  Traverse  Bay, 
and  Point  Betsey,  you  know,  what  got  no  stores  on 
'em.  He  would  blow  his  horn  when  he  come  in,  and 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  135 

all  them  folks  would  come  down  to  the  dock  and  buy 
everything  what  he  bring." 

"  That  was  an  interesting  business." 

"  Yes,  but  he  lose  his  vessel ;  he  went  to  help  some 
other  fellers,  and  his  boat  got  away  from  him  and 
foundered.  Since  then  he  got  awful  hard  times.  I 
lose  my  money  in  her,  too,  what  I  saved  up,  but  I 
don't  say  nothing  about  that." 

The  next  day,  Barclay,  being  obliged  to  drivedown 
towards  the  Polish  quarter,  saw  the  same  young  man 
walking  before  him,  and  recognized  him  from  the 
peculiar  impression  he  had  made.  He  had  not  yet 
sailed,  then  ? 

The  Polish  settlement  consisted  of  an  area  of  yet 
poorer  and  more  sparsely  scattered  shops  and  cot- 
tages than  those  of  the  Germans,  which  they  adjoined. 
It  was  grouped  around  a  few  tall,  unpainted  wooden 
tenement-houses,  containing  many  families  each,  and 
a  solid,  rather  imposing  ecclesiastical  edifice  of  yellow 
brick,  the  church  of  St.  Stanislaus,  which  had  twin 
steeples,  terminating  in  little  domes  covered  with 
shining  tin,  in  the  Muscovite  manner.  Near  the  bor- 
der-line, where  the  two  nationalities  overlapped,  be- 
gan a  small  ravine,  with  neither  grading  nor  side- 
walks, but  dignified  with  the  name  of  Sobieski  Street. 
Upon  this  irregular  site,  driven  to  it  by  the  stress  of 
economy,  immigrants  had  pitched  their  poor  huts  and 
cabins.  Among  them  ran  a  variety  of  meandering 
paths,  the  right  of  way  on  which  was  disputed  with 
human  beings  by  the  goats,  geese,  and  swine.  At  the 
top  of  the  ravine,  where  it  joined  a  civilized  thor- 


136  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

ou«:hfare  again,  stood  a  neat  cottage  of  two  stories, 
the  lower  unpainted,  which  gave  a  suggestion  as  of  a 
cellar  above  ground,  — the  residence  of  our  worthy 
friend  Ludwig  Trapschuh.  Barclay  chanced  to  see 
William  Alfsen  steal  cautiously  up  Sobieski  Street, 
and  disappear  in  the  neighborhood  of  this  dwelling. 

This  Polish  immigration,  he  recalled,  as  he  drove 
on,  was  the  outgrowth  chiefly  of  the  later  Russian 
persecutions,  dating  from  about  1864.  Partly  as  the 
last  arrived,  and  partly  on  account  of  the  uncouthness 
of  their  speech,  they  were  generally  rated  lower  than 
any  others  in  the  social  scale.  They  were  for  the 
most  part  but  common  laborers.  There  were  to  be 
seen  pouring  forth  from  this  district,  every  morning, 
a  swarm  of  men,  who  proceeded  to  Market  Square  to 
wait  for  jobs  of  wood-cutting,  or  to  distribute  them- 
selves on  the  railroads  and  public  works  of  the  city. 
They  wore  something  like  a  uniform  of  military-look- 
ing homespun  frock-coats,  full  in  the  skirts,  big  top- 
boots,  round  caps  bordered  with  astrakhan,  and,  if  it 
were  cold,  comforters  and  thick  mittens.  They  had 
been  serfs,  or  something  very  near  it,  at  home,  and 
still  retained  their  thoroughly  peasant-like  aspect. 
They  had  constituted  here,  in  a  small  way,  an  un- 
trammeled  new  Poland :  they  came  not  from  Russia 
alone,  but  from  Prussia,  and  from  that  Austrian  Ga- 
licia  where  Metternich  boasted  that  he  had  secured 
"  fifty  years  of  tranquillity  by  three  days  of  blood." 
But  the  oppressors  who  had  partitioned  their  country 
had  contrived  to  partition  their  spirits  as  well.  They 
were  found  full  of  violent  prejudices  and  ancient  local 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  137 

feuds  :  the  Warsaw  man  fell  out  with  him  of  Cracow, 
and  the  peasant  of  Lithuania  with  the  peasant  of  Po- 
dolia  or  Ukraine. 

William  Alfsen  entered  a  poorer  cottage  than  that 
of  Ludwig  Trapschuh,  the  rear  of  which  it  adjoined. 
A  considerable  piece  of  back-yard  intervened  be- 
tween the  two.  He  greeted  there  a  heavy,  dull-look- 
ing woman,  who  was  Susanka  Kraska,  the  mother  of 
his  tow-headed  cabin-boy,  Nicodem  Kraska. 

"  Nick  a  good  boy,  make  good  sailor !  "  he  bawled, 
for  Susanka  was  deaf. 

"  You  don't  let  it  get  drown  ?  "  she  bawled  in  re- 
turn. Her  English  was  very  defective,  and  even  at 
its  best  had  to  be  supplemented  with  some  words  of 
German. 

"  No,  I  don't  let  him  get  drownded."  And  with 
little  more  ado  he  went  and  sat  down  at  a  window 
which  commanded  the  back-yard  before  mentioned. 
He  presently  saw  appear  there  a  person  for  whom  he 
sought,  —  Stanislava  Zelinsky.  She  no  longer  wore 
the  trim  dress  in  which  he  was  wont  to  see  her,  but 
a  linsey-woolsey  petticoat  and  a  bright  handkerchief 
over  her  bosom.  There  rested  on  her  shoulders  a 
heavy  wooden  yoke,  with  a  water-pail  at  either  end, 
which  she  was  going  to  the  well  to  fill. 

He  hurried  out,  and  ensconced  himself,  as  furtively 
as  possible,  behind  a  tall  pile  of  wood,  whence  he  whis- 
tled and  called  in  a  way  to  attract  her  attention.  The 
girl  discovered  liim. 

"  I  did  n't  know  you  was  here.  I  thought  you  was 
sailed  away,"  she  said  ;  refraining,  after  a  first  start- 


138  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

led  glance,  from  looking  towards  him,  so  as  to  betray 
any  recognition  of  his  presence. 

"  I  want  to  see  you  once  more,  Stanislava.  I  got 
something  to  say  with  you.  I  make  believe  go  off. 
I  sail  through  the  bridge  in  big  style,  so  your  father 
and  Barney  think  I  gone  away ;  then  I  tie  up  the 
boat  down  by  the  harbor  mouth,  leave  Nicodem  take 
care  of  her,  and  come  here.  You  must  come  right 
away  out  and  take  walk." 

"  Wait  till  I  make  done  my  work  and  get  good 
excuse.  They  don't  watch  me  now,  because  they 
think  you  was  gone." 

They  arranged  to  meet  at  the  corner  of  a  certain 
vacant  lot,  on  distant  Windlake  Avenue.  Alfsen 
waited  patiently  till  she  had  finished  her  household 
tasks,  and  sallied  forth  ;  then  he  stole  down  the  ra- 
vine again,  and  joined  her  at  the  trysting-place.  If 
the  dull  Dame  Kraska  regarded  this  manoeuvre  at 
all,  possibly  she  thought  it  only  a  part  of  the  neces- 
sary business  of  employing  her  lazy  son  Nicodem  as  a 
cabin-boy,  or  possibly  she  winked  at  it  because  she 
had  no  great  love  for  her  neighbor,  Ludwig  Trap- 
schuh. 

"  What  happen  you,  Stanislava  ? "  asked  Alfsen, 
at  once.  "  Why  you  wear  that  kind  o'  dress  ?  " 

"  I  got  to ;  I  must,  all  time,  do  housework  now." 

"  And  you  don't  like  milliner  business  no  more  ? 
Why  you  leave  Morgenroth's  store  ?  " 

"  I  guess  I  was  too  sassy.  When  they  say  some- 
thing against  the  Polanders,  I  say  something  back 
again,  and  they  turn  me  out." 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  139 

"  Oh,  no,  you  could  n't  be  too  sassy,  Stanislava. 
Was  that,  sure,  the  reason  ?  " 

"  Well,  my  uncle  and  aunt  don't  want  me  to  do 
no  more  such  work,"  she  admitted.  "  They  stop  me 
from  everything.  Once,  you  know,  I  was  setting 
types  in  a  German  paper,  and  once  I  was  painting 
them  canisters  in  the  stamped -ware  factory,  and 
once  "  — 

'!  I  don't  forget  paintin'  them  canisters.  Did  n't 
I  first  see  you  when  I  used  to  work  there,  too?" 
broke  in  the  young  mariner,  interrupting  her.  "  But, 
Stanislava,  you  have  that  money  what  you  get  from 
Governor  Lane  to  pay  your  board.  You  must  not 
pay  your  board  and  work  so  like  a  servant,  too." 

"  They  got  big  expenses,  and  they  was  my  family," 
she  answered,  simply. 

"  By  jinks  \  that  was  a  swindle.  I  would  keep  that 
money,  if  it  was  me,  or  I  would  do  what  I  please." 

"  How  I  can  keep  it  ?  My  uncle  get  it  himself  ; 
I  never  get  it  in  my  hands." 

"  I  would  tell  Governor  Lane,  then.  Or  I  would 
tell  Mrs.  Varemberg ;  you  say  she 's  such  a  nice 
lady." 

"  They  was  my  uncle  and  my  aunt,"  reiterated  the 
girl ;  alleging  this  in  a  naive  way,  as  if  it  were  so 
convincing  a  reason  that  nothing  could  by  any  pos- 
sibility be  urged  against  it.  "  I  wonder  what  he  give 
me  that  money  for,  any  way  ?  "  she  added,  presently. 

"  Oh,  he  got  plenty."  Alfsen  was  little  enough 
troubled  on  this  score,  to  which,  indeed,  he  had  never 
paid  an  instant's  attention.  "  I  had  something  very 


140  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

partiklar  to  say  with  you,  Stanislava,"  he  began  anew, 
hesitatingly.  ''  What  I  got  to  say  is,  I  guess  you 
must  give  me  up,  Stanislava." 

"  Give  you  up,  Willie  ?  "  she  cried,  as  with  sudden 
horror. 

"  Yes ;  you  must  get  married  with  some  smart  fel- 
ler what  can  take  good  care  of  you.  I  got  no  good 
luck  any  more,  —  no  better  luck  that  last  trip  as  be- 
fore. So  I  go  down  the  lower  lakes  to  look  for  some 
new  kind  o'  job,  and  perhaps  I  stay  there,  and  don't 
never  come  back.  What 's  the  use  ?  " 

"  Willie,  you  must  come  back  !  "  she  exclaimed,  in 
frightened  protest.  "I  don't  give  you  up,  —  you 
und'stand  ?  I  don't  give  you  up." 

"  But  if  I  'm  no  good  no  more  ?  " 

"  I  keep  company  with  you,  all  the  same,"  she  per- 
sisted obstinately. 

Reassured  by  this  display  of  constancy,  he  next 
broached,  in  a  sheepish  way,  another  matter  he  had 
been  turning  over  in  his  mind. 

"  We  might  get  married  —  right  away  —  by  Pas- 
tor Freitag,"  he  suggested,  "  and  no  one  know  noth- 
ing about  it.  Then  if  they  was  to  treat  you  too  bad 
I  could  stop  it.  I  would  try  to  take  you  away  the 
soonest  possible." 

The  girl  seemed  startled  this  tkne  in  a  different 
way. 

"  /  would  n't  be  married  by  no  Pastor  Freitag," 
she  responded,  with  a  decided  toss  of  the  head,  in 
spite  of  her  recent  avowal  of  affection.  It  was  evi- 
dent that  she  cherished  a  feminine  ideal  of  something 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  141 

very  much  more  elaborate  in  the  way  of  a  wedding 
than  a  clandestine  ceremony  by  Pastor  Freitag. 

This  was  a  little  man,  a  minister  of  the  Lutheran 
sect,  who  lived  a  bachelor  existence  —  doing  all  his 
own  cooking  —  in  the  basement  of  his  chapel,  on  one 
of  the  minor  side  streets.  He  was  very  latitudinarian 
in  his  theology,  and  accommodating  in  all  his  views  ; 
offering,  for  instance,  to  marry  a  couple  "  either  with 
or  without  a  God."  His  chapel  was,  as  it  were,  a 
local  Gretna  Green,  and  no  small  part  of  his  scanty 
income  was  derived  from  expediting  wedlock  for  per- 
sons disposed  to  be  slightly  informal  in  their  arrange- 
ments. 

But  little  further  time  was  allowed  for  the  discus- 
sion of  Pastor  Freitag  or  anything  else.  The  pair, 
who  had  wandered,  Jenny  and  Jessamy  fashion,  quite 
at  their  ease,  and  sometimes  hand  in  hand,  were  sud- 
denly confronted  by  a  formidable  apparition.  It  was 
no  less  than  Ludwig  Trapschuh.  He  had  left  his 
bridge,  again,  on  one  of  his  expeditions  to  see  South 
Side  aldermen,  and  the  like,  and  found  himself  at  the 
moment  in  precisely  that  part  of  the  town.  The  sight 
struck  consternation  to  their  souls.  His  niece  gave 
a  faint,  involuntary  shriek,  while  Alfsen  could  only 
affect  a  dogged  sort  of  smile. 

"  Did  n't  I  tell  you  I  won't  let  it  ?  "  cried  Trap- 
schuh, in  a  choking  fury,  addressing  himself  first  to 
the  young  girl.  Then,  turning  to  Alfsen,  he  said, 
"  So-o-o  you  walk  yourself  with  my  niece-of-law  ?  If 
I  catch  it  again,  I  guess  I  knock  you  over  the  heels 
by  the  head." 


142  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

Before  any  violence  could  be  done,  however,  Paul 
Barclay  once  more  appeared  upon  the  scene.  Though 
he  was  but  passing  by,  driving  homeward,  his  pres- 
ence no  doubt  acted  as  a  restraining  influence.  It 
was  evident  to  him  that  a  drama  of  some  kind  was 
in  progress  :  the  young  sailor  had  a  defiant  air,  Stan- 
islava  was  downcast  and  tearful,  and  Ludwig  Trap- 
schuh  made  the  most  typical  of  stern,  low-comedy 
fathers.  Barclay  unavoidably  gave  it  his  attention 
through  his  recognizing  the  participants.  As  if  this 
were  only  a  signal  for  their  breaking  up,  the  little 
group,  immediately  after,  dispersed.  William  Alfsen 
hurried  down  to  the  port,  this  time  to  cast  off  and  put 
to  sea  without  further  artifice  ;  Stanislava  was  dragged 
home  by  her  irate  guardian,  and,  arrived  there,  scolded 
roundly  again,  and  all  but  beaten,  by  him  and  her 
aunt.  The  occurrence,  however,  sank  deep  into  her 
recollection  ;  Alfsen's  advice  had  its  effect,  and  she 
manifested  for  the  first  time  a  spark  of  something 
like  the  true  American  independence.  When  pressed 
hard,  she  threatened  to  go  to  David  Lane,  say  to  him 
that  she  was  able  and  anxious  to  earn  her  own  liv- 
ing, and  have  the  stipend  stopped. 

"  Don't  do  it,  Stanislava,"  begged  Trapschuh,  in 
great  alarm.  "  We  got  big  expenses,  and  we  could  n't 
bring  you  up  without  that  money.  Remember  I  was 
a  poor  man,  and  I  was  your  uncle." 

"  You  must  give  me  freedom,  then ;  I  must  do 
what  I  like." 

Her  uncle  was  thus  in  some  degree  brought  to 
terms.  She  utilized  her  privilege  by  exchanging 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  143 

the  rude,  domestic  drudgery  in  which  she  had  been 
engaged  for  occupations  more  congenial  to  her  taste. 
She  appeared  at  the  Stamped- Ware  Works,  to  solicit 
once  more  the  stenciling  of  patterns  on  light  boxes 
and  canisters,  which  she  had  formerly  done,  —  a 
kind  of  work  sometimes  to  be  taken  home  with  her, 
and  sometimes  done  at  the  shop ;  and  Barclay,  to 
whom  she  addressed  herself,  was  glad  enough  to  ac- 
cede to  her  request.  He  had  a  pleasant  word  more 
than  once  for  this  flower  of  the  Polish  settlement, 
partly  as  Mrs.  Varemberg's  protegee,  and  partly 
through  the  pensive  recollection  of  the  death  of  the 
fathers  of  both  by  the  same  untimely  fate. 

The  rigorous  northern  winter  came  on,  and  set  its 
seal  of  ice  on  the  navigation  of  the  Great  Lakes,  not 
to  be  opened  again  till  another  spring.  The  last  be- 
lated vessels  came  skurrying  into  port ;  some  were 
embargoed  at  places  where  the  sudden  freezing  up 
of  the  harbors  found  them.  The  storm-flag  was  fly- 
ing almost  constantly  on  its  high  perch,  on  the  roof 
of  the  building  of  the  Keewaydin  Insurance  Com- 
pany. This  square  of  vivid  scarlet  up  in  the  gray 
sky  indicated  now  snow-storms  that  blocked  the  rail- 
roads, now  wind  at  forty  miles  an  hour,  and  now 
blizzards  of  extreme  cold  that  swept  down  into  the 
streets,  often  driving  all  human  life  in-doors,  and  put- 
ting a  stop  to  business.  The  windows  of  the  shops 
were  sometimes  as  thickly  covered  with  hoar  frost 
as  if  by  plates  of  zinc.  The  lake,  impressive  in  every 
aspect,  was  frozen  as  far  as  the  eye  could  see,  and  no 
one  could  say  how  much  farther.  What  mysterious 


144  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

dramas  were  enacting  in  the  long,  dead  winter  out 
amid  the  winds  and  currents  of  that  great  deserted 
sea  ?  Amid  its  roughened  and  broken  ice  could  be 
seen  here  and  there  forbidding  channels  of  lead-col- 
ored green  or  purple  water.  On  the  farther  verge, 
as  it  vanished  under  the  brooding  sky,  there  seemed 
great  breakers  tossiag,  and  icebergs  moving  in  slow 
procession. 

The  South  Side  Belle  did  not  return  to  port,  even 
among  the  belated  craft,  but  some  time  afterwards 
the  boy  Nick  Kraska  made  his  way  homewards,  and 
related  that  she  had  been  lost  off  the  rough  upper 
Michigan  shore.  Alfsen  was  laid  up  in  hospital  over 
there  with  various  injuries,  including  a  broken  arm. 
He  had  been  injured  in  going  back  after  Nicodem, 
—  who  was  afraid  to  strike  out  alone,  —  through  a 
heavy  sea  full  of  floating  lumber ;  keeping  thus  the 
promise  made  to  the  mother  to  look  after  the  boy's 
safety. 

"The  sloop  was  as  rotten  as  an  old  pumpkin," 
said  a  critic  of  the  occurrence,  at  the  Johannisberger 
House.  "  She  was  loaded  with  a  cargo  of  boards, 
and  these  thrashed  around,  broke  through  her  sides, 
and  scuttled  her  by  themselves  the  very  minute  a 
good  thumping  sea  set  in." 

Later  on,  William  Alfsen  appeared,  one  day,  in 
person,  at  the  Stamped- Ware  Works,  pale  and  ema- 
ciated, his  arm  still  in  a  sling,  and  accompanying 
Stanislava,  whom  he  had  met,  on  some  errand  con- 
nected with  her  work. 

Foreman  Akins  pointed  him  out,  and  described 
the  case  to  Barclay. 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  145 

"  There  's  a  feller  that  used  to  be  a  smart  hand  to 
work,"  said  he.  "  He  never  'd  orter  left ;  he  did  n't 
know  when  he  was  well  off." 

"  Why  not  give  him  his  place  back  again  ?  " 

"  That  arm  o'  his  would.n't  let  him  be  no  use  now. 
Unless,  may  be,  it  was  some  light  job  in  the  packin'- 
room,"  he  added. 

In  due  time,  however,  Barclay  stopped,  on  his  way 
up  town,  to  offer  the  son  of  the  aged  weather-vane 
maker  some  light  work  in  the  packing-room.  The 
young  man  was  rather  disposed  to  resent  it  at  first, 
as  savoring  of  charity,  but  he  was  made  to  feel  that 
his  services  were  really  in  demand. 

During  the  interview,  old  Alfsen  took  occasion,  as 
usual,  to  air  his  views  on  the  weather  and  other 
topics. 

"I  make  predictment,"  said  he,  "  that  this  is  not  a 
easy  windter,  but  a  strong,  cold,  and  enduring  one." 

Lightning-rods  were  the  favorite  subject  of  his  dis- 
course. It  appeared  that  he  was  fond  of  assembling 
the  children  of  the  neighborhood  round  him  to  hear 
his  stones  of  the  mysterious  element  with  which  he 
had  had  so  much  to  do.  He  would  tell  of  the  shat- 
tering of  the  masts  of  vessels  by  lightning.  Once, 
he  said,  a  great  wheel  of  St.  Elmo's  fire  as  large  as 
a  millstone  had  come  rolling  along  the  waves  and 
pierced  a  ship  in  three  places.  Again,  a  ball  of  blue 
flame  as  large  as  a  man's  fist  had  leaped  from  an 
electrometer  and  killed  its  operator,  leaving  a  red 
mark  on  his  forehead  and  his  shoes  burnt  from  his 
feet. 


146  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

"  Some  will  be  believing  rods  to  be  no  use,  because 
bringing  down  more  lightning  as  what  they  can  carry 
off,"  he  said,  in  his  odd  dialect,  "  but  I  beg  to  differ 
much  with  the  believings  of  said  persons." 

"Your  experience  has  taught  you  differently, 
then?"  said  Barclay,  not  unwilling  to  lead  him  on  a 
little. 

"  Sure  ;  only  they  must  be  good  put  up.  How 
much  power  you  think  got  one  o'  them  clouds  'bout 
ten  thousand  acres  big,  eh?  All  rod  joints  must  be 
tight  and  not  rusty,  and  the  ends  must  be  branched 
out  in  the  ground,  with  plenty  charcoals  around  it, 
else  everything  get  tore  up." 

"  You  have  no  doubt  done  some  very  important 
work  in  that  line,  yourself  ?  " 

"I  was  the  best  lightnin'-rods  feller  what  you 
never  see,"  returned  the  old  man  boastfully.  "  I  did 
ought  to  put  up  all  that  big  work  on  the  city  hall, 
too,  when  it  was  build,  but  I  did  n't  get  enough  po- 
litikle  influence." 

"  And  it  took  political  influence  for  that,  even 
when  you  were  so  good  a  workman  ?  " 

"  I  bet  you  it  take  it ;  if  you  got  no  aldermans  on 
your  side,  you  get  no  job.  When  I  was  mad  about 
it,  they  give  me  a  small,  little  box  to  make,  to  put 
some  papers  in,  in  that  statue;  that  job  didn't 
amount  to  nothing  at  all.  I  bet  you  see  her  come 
down  some  day,  and  scatter  them  papers  all  round." 

"  You  think  the  figure  is  not  secure  ?  " 

"  I  make  predictment  what  she  come  down.  Yes, 
sir,  plenty  times  already  see  I  her  shake  in  the  wind." 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  147 

"  Oh,  anything  shakes  in  a  high  wind." 

"  Well,  but  I  guess  the  lightning  some  time  hit 
her,  any  way.  Them  other  fellers  what  put  up  the 
rods  on  the  big  dome  and  that  golded  statue  of  Jus- 
tice don't  know  nothing  about  it,"  he  said,  still  cher- 
ishing his  resentment  of  years  before.  "  I  was  the 
best  feller  for  fixing  up  the  right  kind  o'  rods,  and 
if  she  don't  got  'em,  of  course  she  must  come  down." 

William  Alfsen  proved  a  faithful  person  in  the 
minor  duties  assigned  him,  and  an  intelligent  one  as 
well,  from  whom  Barclay  gathered  many  useful  opin- 
ions about  the  needs  and  views  of  the  working  class. 
He  made  friends  with  him  by  degrees,  and  took  him, 
more  or  less,  as  a  companion  and  guide  in  what  Mrs. 
Varemberg  was  pleased  to  call  his  "explorations 
among  all  different  races  and  conditions  of  men." 

They  went  together,  one  night,  to  a  meeting  of 
rabid  socialists  and  unifiers  of  labor,  held  in  the  dis- 
trict somewhere  near  the  factory.  There  was  a 
speaker  who  had  a  strange  way  of  perking  out  his 
chin,  and  appeared  about  to  choke  with  each  sentence, 
—  a  huge  man,  who  made  but  mild  suggestions. 
There  was  another,  a  diminutive  man,  in  an  over- 
coat with  ragged  edges,  and  wide  pantaloons  flapping 
over  little  feet  like  a  woman's,  who  proposed,  in  a 
piping  voice,  the  most  sanguinary  measures.  Hoolan, 
from  the  factory,  was  present,  among  others,  and  made 
a  speech.  Remarking  Barclay  in  the  audience,  he 
addressed  to  him  personally  some  questions  intended 
to  be  posers  of  a  very  crushing  sort.  It  was  much 
out  of  Barclay's  line,  but  he  rose,  nevertheless,  and 


148  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

answered  these  and  some  other  of  the  dangerous  fal- 
lacies he  had  heard.  He  displayed  before  them  in  a 
few  well-chosen,  forcible  words  some  economic  doc- 
trines, of  the  simple  elementary  sort,  but  novel  and 
original  enough  in  an  assembly  like  that,  little  given 
to  considering  more  than  one  side  of  a  question. 
There  were  groans  and  hisses,  but  Hoolan  stood  by 
him  ;  on  the  whole,  they  gave  him  fair  play,  and  he 
derived  from  this  incident  a  reputation  for  oratory,  as 
he  had  already  for  courage. 

And  yet  again  Barclay  went  with  Alfsen  to  a  Po- 
lish ball,  of  which  the  latter  had  apprised  him.  It 
was  a  celebration  of  the  military  company,  and  was 
held  in  a  rude  wooden  building,  in  a  grove  of  leafless 
trees,  dignified  with  the  name  of  a  "  park,"  near  the 
southern  city  limits.  It  was  on  a  clear  winter's  night. 
As  they  drew  near  the  place,  the  moon  shone  down 
upon  the  Polish  quarter,  touching  with  a  sparkle  the 
bright  tin  domes  of  the  church  of  St.  Stanislaus,  and 
gleaming  white  on  the  fields  of  driven  snow  all  round 
about  it,  with  much  such  an  effect  as  might  have  been 
presented  by  an  actual  village  of  the  steppes. 

Within,  the  Sobieski  Guards  moved  about,  re- 
splendent in  their  uniforms  of  blue  and  red ;  and 
young  women,  with  hands  and  wrists  roughened  by 
work,  sat  in  rows  on  benches,  their  hats  and  shawls 
hung  on  pegs  behind  them.  Stanislava  Zelinsky  was 
there,  very  charming  in  white  muslin,  with  blue  rib- 
bons in  her  hair.  So  jealously  guarded  was  she  by 
her  uncle,  assisted  by  the  rowdy  Barney,  that  Will- 
iam Alfsen  could  only  look  at  her  from  afar  with 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  149 

longing  and  disconsolate  eyes.  Ludwig  Trapschuh, 
to  tell  the  truth,  cherished  no  peculiar  prejudice 
against  Alfsen  ;  he  would  have  felt  the  same  way  to- 
wards any  other  who  threatened  to  take  away  from 
him  his  niece  and  source  of  revenue.  But  precau- 
tions as  to  others  were  needless,  for  she  showed  them 
no  favor. 

Barclay,  however,  was  a  visitor  who  was  treated 
with  august  consideration  by  his  pleasing  young  em- 
ployee, among  the  rest,  and  he  talked  with  her  at 
considerable  length.  She  could  tell  him  something 
of  the  traditions  of  her  country  :  the  wolf-hunting  in 
the  Carpathians;  the  ancient  serpent- worship  in 
marshy  Lithuania ;  the  tarantuss  with  a  trotting  and 
two  galloping  horses  harnessed  abreast ;  the  wodki, 
or  potato  brandy  ;  and  a  certain  famous  plum  jam, 
made  in  great  kettles  set  in  the  ground,  and  stirred 
about  with  wooden  shovels.  Finally,  she  induced 
the  musicians  to  play  for  his  especial  benefit  the  sweet 
and  plaintive  Kalina  and  some  other  national  airs. 

The  dancing  was  marked  by  great  zest  and  facility. 

"  Why,  indeed,  should  it  not  be  ?  "  remarked  Bar- 
clay, as  he  went  back  to  his  companion.  "  Where, 
allowing  for  the  rudeness  of  the  company,  should  we 
expect  to  find  more  grace  and  spirit  than  here  ?  Do 
we  not  owe  them  all  the  modern  dances  ?  What  is 
Polka  but  the  word  that  means  '  a  Polish  woman  '  ? 
The  Mazurka  was  the  native  dance  of  the  Mazours, 
the  Cracovienne  that  of  Cracow,  and  the  Varsovienne 
that  of  Warsaw." 

He  paused,  as  he  was  leaving  the  place,  to  watch 


150  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

a  waltz,  in  which  the  couples  separated  at  a  given  sig- 
nal, pointed  mocking  fingers  at  each  other,  clapped 
hands  and  stamped  feet,  then  joined  again  and  went 
on  as  before,  all  in  harmonious  rhythm.  On  the  way 
home  Alfsen  deferentially  confided  to  him  his  feel- 
ings about  Stanislava,  of  which  his  listener  had  al- 
ready heard  something.  "  Some  o'  the  girls  gets 
married  because  they  're  tired  o'  workin',  and  often 
gets  a  harder  time  than  what  they  had  before,"  said 
he.  "  I  don't  want  any  o'  that ;  I  don't  want  any 
girl  what  marries  me  to  be  scrubbin'  all  the  time  at 
the  wash-tub."  He  took  so  dark  a  view  of  his  own 
prospects  that  no  one  was  readier  to  admit  the  justice 
of  the  opposition  of  Trapschuh  than  himself. 

"  But  your  arm  will  soon  be  well  again,"  returned 
his  employer  sympathetically ;  "  then  you  can  get 
your  old  place  back,  earn  good  wages,  and  things  will 
go  all  right  with  you." 

u  Yes,  but  I  don't  know  if  I  can  make  good  me- 
chanic any  more,"  hesitatingly.  "  I  'm  better  on  some 
kind  of  a  boat.  Only  when  a  man  lose  his  boat  — 
and  I  lose  two  —  he  don't  easy  get  no  other  one.  If 
I  could  get  on  the  revenue  cutter,  I  like  it,"  he  added 
wistfully.  "  Them  government  jobs  pay  pretty  good, 
and  you  're  sure  you  get  your  pay." 

"  On  the  Florence  Lane  ?  What  sort  of  a  place 
would  you  want  ?  " 

"  Well,  may  be  to  watch  around  her,  while  she  's 
laid  up  for  the  winter  ;  and,  after  that,  to  work  on 
her  most  any  way,  —  I  could  learn  all.  I  would  n't 
care  much  whether  it  was  sailin'  or  takin'  care  o' 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  151 

the  guus  ;  I  understand  most  all  that  kind  o'  busi- 
ness." 

Barclay  began  to  speculate  whether  there  was  any 
reason  why  he  should  not  get  a  deserving  fellow,  with 
a  taste  for  the  work,  a  government  appointment  on 
a  revenue  cutter.  He  apparently  found  none,  for  he 
said,  — 

"  I  '11  speak  to  Lieutenant  Gregg  about  it." 
But  it  so  happened   that   peculiar   circumstances 
arose  to  prevent  his  speaking  to  Lieutenant  Gregg 
about  it  in  person,  and  to  lead  him  to  turn  the  mat- 
ter over  to  other  hands,  instead. 


VIII. 

A    MEETING   AT  THE    FOOT  OF  THE  GOLDEN   JUSTICE. 

BARCLAY  had  first  his  popular  period,  theu  some- 
thing very  like  an  unpopular  period,  in  the  social  life 
of  Keewaydin.  Looked  upon  as  a  person  of  excep- 
tional distinction,  he  was  bidden  to  all  the-  usual  en- 
tertainments and  many  especially  devised  in  his  honor. 
Keewaydin,  like  most  other  American  towns,  did  not 
frankly  engage  in  pleasure  for  pleasure's  sake  ;  there 
was  generally  an  apologetic  air  about  it.  Still,  some- 
body coming  or  somebody  going,  a  notable  stranger 
in  town,  a  charitable  object  to  be  furthered,  furnished 
occasion  for  sufficient  gayeties. 

"The  typical  occasion,  I  should  say,"  Mrs.  Varem- 
berg  explained  to  him,  "  is  the  visit  of  some  young 
girl  who  was  formerly  school-mate,  say,  of  a  friend 
residing  in  this  place.  As  soon  as  it  is  known  that 
such  a  person  has  arrived,  all  the  acquaintances  of  the 
family  hasten  to  the  house,  and  steps  begin  at  once 
to  be  taken  for  her  entertainment." 

"  This  inter-visiting  of  school  friends,  now  that 
railroad  fares  are  cheap,  and  the  remotest  points  are 
really  but  a  few  days  apart,  seems  one  of  the  great 
North  American  agencies  for  unifying  civilization," 
said- Barclay,  as  if  philosophically.  "The  boarding- 
school  ought  to  be  set  upon  a  lofty  pedestal  of  honor, 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  153 

as  a  leading  factor  in  the  modification  of  types  and 
the  settlement  of  race  problems.  What  is  the  fre- 
quent upshot  of  these  visits  ?  The  young  stranger, 
flattered  and  feted,  appears  at  her  best.  The  young 
men  are  taken  with  the  novelty  ;  some  one  of  them 
asks  her  to  marry  him,  and  she  stays.  She  has  been 
blown  afar  and  taken  root,  just  as  the  seeds  of  exotic 
plants  are  blown  by  the  winds  to  spring  up  on  coral 
islands." 

"  You  are  undoubtedly  correct.  But  how  beauti- 
fully poetical  you  are  getting,  in  these  late  days  ! " 

"Oh,  I  have  to  be  rather  poetical,  as  a  relaxation 
from  the  factory.  Besides,  I  am  a  bit  of  the  drift 
from  distant  shores,  myself." 

"  Then  we  must  have  you  follow  the  usual  career. 
Who  is  to  be  the  happy  agent  of  your  taking  root 
and  flowering  on  our  coral  reef?  Naturally  Miss  Tel- 
son,  our  greatest  fortune,  whose  money  will  be  use- 
ful to  you  in  your  philanthropic  enterprises.  A  phil- 
anthropist, you  know,  can  never  have  too  much." 

Barclay  objected  to  Miss  Telson.  She  was  the 
daughter  of  the  leading  capitalist  of  the  place,  —  for 
others,  in  the  mean  time,  had  surpassed  David  Lane. 
She  was  a  particularly  dull,  uninteresting  girl ;  it  was 
said  of  her  even  now  that  she  did  not  know  how  to 
spend  her  income. 

"  Miss  Shadwell,  then,"  said  Mrs.  Varemberg. 
This  young  woman,  a  grand-daughter  of  Shadwell  of 
the  Navigation  Company,  and  probably  the  second  in 
the  list  of  fortunes,  was  a  little  midget  scarcely  out  of 
her  teens,  with  a  face  that  already  resembled  a  with- 


154  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

ered  apple.  She  had  a  rather  terrible  reputation  ; 
she  was  a  law  unto  herself,  and  was  in  the  habit  of 
making  very  pert  and  mischievous  remarks.  A  Miss 
Minford,  who  came  third  in  the  trio  of  heiresses,  mis- 
takenly endeavored  to  render  herself  attractive  by  an 
elegant  fragility ;  she  thought  it  charming  to  profess 
to  be  utterly  unable  to  do  about  everything  anybody 
would  have  liked  to  have  her  do. 

"  No,"  said  Barclay  decisively,  "  I  should  not  take 
kindly  to  so  much  invalidism.  I  could  not  quite  sink 
out  of  sight  my  ideal  of  blooming  health." 

"  You  do  not  like  invalids,  then  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Var- 
emberg,  with  sadness  in  her  voice. 

"  Not  the  amateur  kind ;  all  my  sympathy  and 
admiration  are  reserved  for  the  real  article,"  he 
returned,  with  cheerful  promptness,  endeavoring  to 
atone  for  his  stupid  slip  of  the  tongue. 

"  Ah,  I  see  your  desideratum  is  beauty,  not  mon- 
ey," she  rattled  on,  when  she  had  recovered  from  this 
shock,  or  hidden  her  feeling.  She  affected  to  survey 
the  field  next  from  this  point  of  view. 

She  pretended  many  times  thereafter,  in  a  teasing 
way,  to  consider  him  a  person  who  was  sagely  and 
maturely  deliberating  upon  the  choice  of  a  wife  from 
among  the  eligible  candidates.  She  would  affect  to 
send  him  forth  as  a  champion  to  the  fray,  to  equip 
him  with  her  best  counsels,  comfort  him  in  his  disap- 
pointments. She  represented  his  heart  as  wavering 
in  the  direction  now  of  this  fascinating  fair  one,  now 
of  that.  But  when,  after  a  considerable  time,  no  re- 
sults appeared  from  the  campaign,  she  accused  him  of 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  155 

phlegmatic  insensibility.  She  said  he  had  a  heart 
made  in  compartments,  like  those  of  an  ocean  steam- 
er ;  one  or  more  of  them  might  be  broken  with  impu- 
nity, leaving  the  rest  as  good  as  ever. 

"  You  will  find  a  great  deal  of  good  blood  in  Kee- 
waydin,"  said  Mrs.  Clinton,  taking  her  part  also  in  his 
social  education.  "  Many  young  men  of  the  best  fam- 
ilies of  New  York  and  New  England  came  here,  in 
the  early  times,  to  better  their  circumstances  or  their 
health.  My  brother  was  one  of  them.  You  natu- 
rally belong  to  this  congenial  element,  and  I  would 
advise  you  to  confine  your  acquaintanceship  as  much 
as  possible  within  it.  Of  course  we  know  your  fa- 
ther's name  well,  but  your  mother  was  a  Ridgewood. 
The  moment  I  heard  your  mother's  name  was  Ridge- 
wood,  I  knew  all  about  you." 

"We  are  very  -  remarkable  on  the  mother's  side, 
also,"  said  Mrs.  Varemberg.  "  We  are  Bushwicks. 
The  Bushwicks  —  let  me  see :  they  all  married  and 
had  large  families.  Oh,  yes,  they  were  very  extraor- 
dinary. There  is  a  book  about  them  ;  I  am  going  to 
read  it  some  time." 

"  Florence ! "  protested  Mrs.  Clinton  severely. 

"  Well,  we  shall  not  let  Mr.  Barclay  have  all  the 
credit  on  his  side." 

"  I  hardly  supposed  such  distinctions  amounted  to 
much  here,"  said  Barclay. 

"  They  do  not,"  insisted  Mrs.  Varemberg.  "  There 
are  really  none  except  those  of  the  pocket-book. 
Whoever  has  made  his  fortune  is  given  a  little  time, 
it  is  true,  to  wash  off  the  dust  of  the  conflict,  but  he 


156  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

is  not  kept  out  of  any  of  the  proper  rewards  of  it." 
Again  the  aunt  protested. 

"  You  two  are  such  a  pair  of  radicals  and  scoffers," 
said  she,  classing  them  together.  But  to  be  classed 
with  Mrs.  Varemberg  in  any  category  was  subtly 
grateful  to  Barclay. 

There  proved  to  be  quite  distinctions  enough,  how- 
ever, of  one  sort  and  another.  To  supplement  the 
rest,  the  sectional  divisions  of  East  and  West  Sides 
and  the  like  were  carried  into  social  life  ;  each  as- 
sumed to  be  all  but  sufficient  to  itself,  and  represen- 
tatives of  the  one  went  to  the  other  only  on  the  oc- 
casion of  some  notable  funeral  or  wedding. 

A  "  society  paper  "  and  "  society  columns  "  in  the 
regular  papers  recorded  the  doings  of  a  Shakespeare 
Club,  —  a  highly  accomplished  one,  devoted  to  pri- 
vate theatricals.  Clubs  for  the  cultivation  of  music 
of  many  varieties  especially  flourished.  The  inspira- 
tion seemed  to  come  in  the  first  place  from  the  large 
German  population,  so  gifted  in  this  art ;  and  it  might 
have  been  remarked  that  it  was  through  a  common 
interest  in  music  that  the  two  races  began  to  over- 
come their  early  estrangement,  and  to  intermingle 
and  marry.  The  leading  troupes  of  performers  of 
all  kinds,  on  their  travels,  were  wont  to  play  a  night 
or  two  at  the  Grand  Opera  House  or  the  Academy 
of  Music.  Neither  theatre  was  quite  so  grand  as  its 
name.  Barclay  went  to  some  houses  where  were 
played  "  rhyming  crambo  "  and  like  games,  in  a  half- 
romping  way,  often  pleasanter  than  the  more  set  en- 
tertainments. There  were  many  interiors  fitted  up 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  157 

with  charming  taste,  and  these  had  inmates  who 
showed  themselves  nervously  anxious  to  keep  at  the 
level  of  the  latest  acquirements  in  literature,  art,  and 
general  culture.  They  lamented  their  small  advan- 
tages as  compared  with  the  favored  denizens  of  the 
metropolis,  but  they  often  have  given  the  best  of 
these  latter,  who  are  apt  to  be  distracted  from  read- 
ing, study,  and  most  else  that  is  useful  by  too  great 
a  whirl  of  affairs,  in  their  complex  life,  a  wholesome 
lesson,  instead. 

Barclay  had  the  simplest,  most  unostentatious  of 
manners,  whenever  he  moved,  and  it  was  by  no  means 
his  own  fault  if  he  became  a  centre  of  attraction. 
The  young  women  were  perhaps  a  little  overawed 
at  first  by  his  unusual  eligibility,  accomplishments, 
and  good  looks.  Even  the  more  reserved  had  their 
sweetest  blandishments  for  him,  while  others  threw 
themselves  daringly  at  his  head.  All  alike  proved 
without  avail ;  they  found  him  impervious,  and,  af- 
ter a  sufficient  attempt,  they  drew  off  in  despair. 

Justine  DeBow  assumed,  on  the  strength  of  their 
early  acquaintance,  closer  intimacy  with  him  than 
most  of  the  others,  —  an  assumption  which  he,  to  a 
certain  extent,  conceded.  "  Are  you  never  coming 
to  see  me  ?  "  she  had  asked  him,  more  than  once. 
He  made  short  visits  of  ceremony  and  "  party  calls," 
visiting  large,  handsome  houses,  where  the  young 
hostesses  —  for  it  was  the  young,  for  the  most  part, 
who  conducted  all  these  matters  —  came  down  to  re- 
ceive him.  They  sat  with  hands  crossed  in  their 
laps,  talked  of  Wachtel's  concert,  Ristori,  their  Euro- 


158  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

pean  tours,  and  their  trips  to  New  York  and  to  the 
Eastern  seaboard  in  summer.  In  time  he  dropped 
in  at  Justine  DeBow's  among  the  rest.  She  lived 
in  a  large  wooden  house,  nearly  square,  painted  in 
brownish  tones.  In  the  low  fence,  surrounding  its 
door-yard,  was  a  gate  swinging  both  ways,  which 
clicked  complacently  to  itself  for  some  time  after 
one  had  passed  through. 

Barclay  courteously  asked  after  her  mother,  and 
received  the  reply  that  she  would  have  come  down, 
but  her  health  was  far  from  good,  and  she  rarely  saw 
visitors. 

"  What  are  your  impressions  of  Keewaydin  now  ?  " 
his  young  entertainer  asked  him,  hastening  to  change 
the  subject. 

"I  still  find  it  highly  interesting." 

"My  idea  of  an  interesting  place  is  something 
very  different,"  she  returned,  with  an  almost  offended 
air.  "  It  would  be  a  long  way  off,  for  one  thing,  and 
it  would  furnish  rather  more  to  keep  one  from  dying 
of  utter  stagnation." 

"  I  have  not  stagnated  yet,  with  all  my  Germans 
and  miscellaneous  foreigners  to  explore.  I  Ve  been 
round  the  world  a  second  time  since  my  arrival.  But 
perhaps  I  am  still  too  much  in  my  first  enthusiasm  to 
advance  any  opinions  of  consequence." 

She  looked  at  him  in  surprise.  "  We  don't  see 
anything  of  the  Germans,"  she  said.  "  Some  of  the 
young  men  go  to  the  Germania  Society,  though,  I 
believe,  on  Sunday  nights,  to  see  the  beautiful  Jewess 
Rosa  Blumenthal  —  I  would,  if  I  were  they ;  I  would 
do  most  anything  to  keep  alive." 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  159 

In  this  mood  she  was  not  at  all  like  the  formal 
little  person  he  had  first  met  on  the  steamer. 

'•  She  is  pretty,  as  we  have  agreed,"  said  Barclay, 
reporting  the  visit  afterwards  to  Mrs.  Varemberg, 
"  but  I  have  not  often  seen  a  greater  budget  of  dis- 
content in  so  small  a  compass." 

"  Which  means  that  she  interests  you.  I  recol- 
lect an  unusual  character  or  situation  was  always 
sure  to  do  it." 

"  Ah,  well,  my  interests  are  so  vast  and  varied 
nowadays  that  some  of  them  will  have  to  be  neg- 
lected." 

The  verdict  that  Barclay  was  indifferent,  and  even 
incorrigible,  iu  the  sentimental  way,  was  rendered  at 
St.  Bartholomew's  Guild,  a  charitable  association  of 
select  young  ladies  of  the  place,  and  was  confirmed 
at  the  Saturday  Morning  Club,  a  society,  after  the 
Boston  model,  devoted  to  their  intellectual  improve- 
ment. 

"  Oh,  he  is  fastidiously  polite,  and  all  that ;  no 
one  could  be  more  so.  He  looks  at  you  in  an  ap- 
preciative way,  and  gives  the  most  careful  attention 
to  all  you  say,"  pronounced  a  fair  speaker,  at  the 
Guild,  more  frank  than  the  rest,  removing  a  score  of 
pins  from  her  mouth,  to  be  the  more  untrammeled  in 
the  expression  of  her  opinion.  "  But  what  does  it 
all  amount  to  ?  You  feel,  somehow,  always  kept  at 
a  distance.  He  is  thoroughly  cold;  it  is  probably 
constitutional." 

"  I  could  never  conceive  of  his  falling  in  love," 
said  another ; ."  he  is  the  kind  of  man  to  whom  it 
would  be  impossible." 


160  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

It  was  measurably  certain  that  he  had  not  fallen 
in  love  with  any  of  them,  and  yet  Justine  DeBow 
held  her  peace.  Neither  was  this  authoritative  judg- 
ment pronounced  till  forbearance  had,  as  it  were, 
ceased  to  be  a  virtue.  Ample  time  had  been  allowed 
for  revision  of  judgment,  and  the  decision,  coming 
from  such  a  source,  might  be  considered  final. 

Paul  Barclay  also  ran  the  gauntlet,  with  like  im- 
perturbability, of  a  "  married  set,"  which  had  lately 
introduced,  as  something  of  a  novelty  in  Keewaydin, 
certain  "fast"  practices  of  enjoying  life,  derived 
from  New  York  and  foreign  models,  carried  into 
eifect,  as  is  often  apt  to  be  the  case  with  imitations 
in  even  exaggerated  form.  Barclay  had  seen  the 
world,  and  was  considered  amply  eligible  for  this  set, 
which  was  inclined  to  look  upon  him  as  a  marked 
acquisition,  and  made  him  gracious  overtures.  It 
was  noted  for  dashing  little  suppers  with  plenty  of 
champagne ;  the  calling  of  one  another  by  their  first 
names  ;  and  the  dancing  of  attendance  upon  the  wives 
of  others  by  gallant  cavaliers,  while  the  husbands 
showed  the  most  agreeable  complaisance  in  the  world. 
A  certain  Mrs.  Rycraft,  a  siren  of  the  buxom  sort, 
by  no  means  without  good  looks,  took  the  lead  in 
the  overtures  to  Barclay.  Perhaps  in  order  to  be 
beforehand  with  the  others,  she  carried  them  to  no- 
table lengths.  She  talked  in  a  pensive  way  of  the 
unsatisfactoriness  of  life,  and  confided  to  him  that, 
gay  as  she  seemed,  she  was  often  oppressed  by  moods 
of  melancholy.  He  found  her  woes  but  a  curious 
parody  of  the  real  and  poignant  ones  of  Mrs.  Varem- 
berg. 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  161 

She  permitted  herself  a  good  deal  of  sympathy, 
she  said,  for  men  who  are  sometimes  spoken  of  as 
bad  men  ;  they  were  often  very  much  maligned,  and 
they  had  many  redeeming  traits.  She  thought  men 
ought  not  to  marry ;  if  she  were  a  man,  she  would 
never  think  of  it. 

"  But  perhaps  you  make  too  little  allowance  for 
the  human  nature  and  the  weakness  of  the  mascu- 
line heart,"  said  Barclay,  affecting  to  humor  her. 

"  Oh,  he  should  fall  in  love.  I  would  not  put  any 
countermand  upon  that,"  she  rejoined,  as  in  a  kind 
of  consternation. 

"  Nothing  is  easier  —  as  I  have  heard  —  than  to 
fall  in  love  a  little  with  each  successive  pretty 
woman  ;  but  in  falling  in  love,  as  some  philosopher 
says,  the  first  thing  to  do  is  to  foresee  the  end.  Per- 
haps it  is  not  always  so  easy  to  get  out  of  it.  Have 
you  any  recipe  to  cover  that  ?  " 

"  Oh,  don't  ask  me  for  recipes.  You  must  find  the 
right  person,  and  then  you  will  not  want  to  get  out." 
And  she  left  it  but  a  transparent  mystery  who  the 
right  one  was. 

Not  long  after  this,  he  received  a  very  agitated- 
looking  note,  signed  only  with  an  initial.  It  was 
couched  somewhat  in  these  terms  :  — 

"  Such  a  strange,  unaccountable  feeling  has  taken 
possession  of  me.  It  is  so  pleasant  to  think  of  your 
beins  here —  How  dare  I  write  this?  —  I  will  not 

O 

send  it  —  yes,  I  will.  But  you  must  forget  that  it 
was  ever  written.  Never  speak  of  it,  never  think  of 
it,  I  adjure  you." 


162  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

Paul  Barclay  extricated  himself  from  this  entangle- 
ment with  all  the  discretion  possible,  though  perhaps 
no  amount  of  discretion  is  ever  sufficient,  in  such 
.  to  avoid  making  an  enemy,  —  who  has  but  the 
greater  power  for  harm,  the  more  consideration  that 
is  used. 

After  a  varied  collection  of  such  small  experiences, 
he  inclined  to  withdraw  himself  altogether  from  the 
social  arena.  But  for  the  frigid  atmosphere  created 
by  her  father,  he  would  have  gone  more  and  more 
often  to  Mrs.  Varemberg's.  Even  as  it  was,  his 
visits  began  to  attract  comment.  Why  had  those 
two  so  much  to  say  to  each  other?  Did  they  hold 
themselves  aloof  in  assumed  superiority  ?  the  gossips 
asked.  And  this  Barclay,  had  he  none  of  the  nat- 
ural impulses  of  his  youth,  that  he  showed  no  eyes 
and  ears  for  the  conceded  beauties  of  the  place  ? 
There  were  some,  in  truth,  fair  enough  to  move  an 
anchorite,  but  they  failed  to  attract  him. 

As  to  all  this,  even  the  young  man  was  often  sorely 
puzzled  at  his  own  state  of  mind.  A  warm  and  im- 
pulsive blood  really  rau  in  his  veins ;  few  had  a 
quicker  eye  than  he  for  any  beauty  of  face  or  form, 
a  readier  appreciation  of  all  the  attractions  that  go 
to  make  up  the  surpassing  feminine  charm.  But,  in 
some  strange  way,  all  virtue  seemed  to  have  gone  out 
of  this  now.  It  pleased  him  to  associate  only  with 
this  weak  and  crippled  existence ;  all  other  women 
had  grown  hardly  more  than  tolerable  to  him. 

"  Am  I  not,"  he  would  ask  himself,  in  trying  to 
account  for  it,  "  the  widower  of  buried  hopes  ;  is  not 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  163 

my  past  of  such  a  sort  that  I  have  no  right  to  the 
ordinary  present,  and  the  future  is  no  longer  open  to 
me  ?  "  And,  "  Why  should  I  not  use  what  is  left  to 
me  as  I  choose  ?  "  he  asked. 

A  chivalrous  ideal  of  remaining  always  at  her  side, 
without  hope  of  change  or  reward,  began  to  frame 
itself  vaguely  in  his  mind.  Why  might  he  not  make 
a  career  of  such  disinterested  friendship  ?  He  would 
let  no  word  or  act  of  his  trouble  her  peace  of  mind  ; 
the  most  perfect  prudence  should  guard  her  against 
any  aspersion  by  evil  tongues ;  he  would  only  wait, 
wait  indefinitely,  and  offer  such  poor  solace  as  his 
presence  might  afford. 

"  Do  you  never  go  to  see  any  people  ?  Do  you 
take  no  part  in  these  festivities  at  all  ?  "  he  was  moved 
to  ask  her,  after  a  time. 

« I  ?  How  can  I  ?  How  should  I  act  if  I  did  ?  If 
I  were  gay,  the  malicious  would  say  I  did  not  ap- 
preciate the  gravity  of  my  situation  ;  if  I  were  sad, 
that  I  was  posing  for  their  sympathy,  —  or,  worse 
yet,  would  give  it  to  me,  and  that  I  could  not  en- 
dure." 

"Not  even  that  of  your  Radbrooks,  of  whose  life 
you  have  given  me  such  attractive  accounts  ?  I  have 
seen  something  of  them  myself,  by  the  way,  and 
think  you  are  right.  Only,  after  all,  another  person's 
happiness  seems  a  tame  affair,  compared  to  what  one 
pictures  for  himself." 

"  To  such  places  I  can  go  least  of  all ;  they  bring 
the  tears  to  my  eyes.  Shall  I  confess  to  you  that  it 
is  one  of  my  peculiarities  to  weep  at  the  sight  of  hap- 


164  THE    GO  Lit  UN  JUSTICE. 

piness?  I  cannot  bear  it.  I  have  often  turned  away 
from  happy  couples,  out-of-doors,  and  taken  a  differ- 
ent street  to  avoid  them.  You  will  laugh  at  a  person 
so  weak  and  ridiculous,  will  you  not  ?  " 

But  Barclay  was  far  indeed  from  any  disposition 
to  merriment.  At  this  rare  admission  that  her  suf- 
fering was  mental  as  well  as  physical,  he  had  no  little 
pains  to  disguise  his  own  emotion,  which  brought  a 
decided  lump  into  his  throat.  Yet,  as  there  seemed 
nothing  of  permanent  avail  to  be  done  it  became  his 
role  to  save  her  in  some  way  from  herself,  to  aid  her 
to  pass  her  days  more  cheerfully.  He  sometimes 
tried  a  raillery  like  her  own.  As  she  had  called  him 
Wat  Tyler  and  Gracchus,  he  dubbed  her  the  Exile, 
the  Prisoner  of  the  Lake,  and  by  many  similar  high- 
sounding  titles. 

"You  must  watch  a  spider,  day  by  day,  spinning 
its  web  in  a  corner  of  your  cell ;  some  little  flower 
peeping  up  through  a  joint  in  the  paving-stones,  for 
your  comfort,  —  like  your  illustrious  prototypes," 
he  said. 

"  As  to  the  cobweb,"  she  returned,  "  I  hardly  think 
our  tidy  Swedish  housemaids  will  have  left  one,  but 
the  conservatory  is  the  most  likely  place  for  the  flow- 
ers. Let  us  go  and  look." 

Perhaps  the  prismatic  glitter  of  all  these  conserva- 
tories did  more  than  any  other  feature  to  give  the  or- 
dinary passer-by  his  idea  of  the  magnificence  of  David 
Lane  and  the  unclouded  happiness  that  must  necessa- 
rily prevail  in  so  splendid  an  establishment.  But  the 
ordinary  passer-by,  unfortunately,  is  not  an  accurate 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  165 

judge  of  the  realities  of  things  from  their  appear- 
ance ;  he  does  not  always  know  sufficient  of  the  wants 
of  him  who  appears  to  want  the  least,  and  how,  after 
all  the  needs  of  the  body  are  gratified,  there  may  yet 
remain  the  even  more  imperious  needs  of  the  heart 
and  mind. 

Mrs.  Varemberg,  pretending  to  seek  the  proper 
flower,  culled  one  here  and  there,  and  then  formed 
them  all  into  a  bouquet  for  her  companion.  How 
charming,  he  thought,  was  the  touch  of  her  light,  de- 
liberate hand  upon  them ;  how  privileged  the  object, 
inanimate  or  animate,  that  might  receive  the  beuison 
of  her  caress  ! 

"  All  this  is  rather  my  father's  taste  than  my  own, 
—  the  room  for  orchids,  particularly,"  said  she.  "  A 
conservatory  is  not  greatly  to  my  liking." 

"  Nor  to  mine  either,  to  tell  the  truth.  This  heaven 
of  glass  instead  of  the  blue  sky,  this  tepid,  enervat- 
ing atmosphere  instead  of  the  free  air  of  nature,  are 
but  poor  substitutes  for  the  originals." 

"  The  plants,  in  their  artificial  existence,  so  care- 
fully screened  from  every  draught  and  inequality, 
remind  me  too  much  of  my  own.  They  too  have  a 
cowed  and  disconsolate  air." 

"  You  must  give  me  some  of  the  bolder  of  them, 
when  I  begin  my  landscape-gardening,  to  see  what 
they  will  do  out-of-doors." 

."Your  landscape-gardening?" 

"  Yes  ;  I  have  been  waiting  to  break  it  to  you. 
Barclay's  Island  is  going  to  be  '  a  bower  of  roses  by 
Bendermeer's  stream.'  And  the  planing-mill  '  sings 


106  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

round  it  all  the  day  long,'  he  added.     Oh,  I  assure 
you,  you  won't  know  it." 

'He  outlined  for  her  some  of  his  proposed  innova- 
tions :  he  meant  to  paint  the  buildings,  let  in  the 
honest  light  of  day  at  the  windows  unimpeded  bv  the 
time-honored  cobwebs  and  grime,  put  up  an  orna- 
mental stone  gateway  at  the  entrance  to  the  grounds, 
clear  away  all  the  rubbish,  and  replace  the  slag  and 
cinders  by  grass-plats  varied  with  some  few  flower- 
beds, —  about  all  that  could  be  done  without  tearing 
down  the  whole  establishment. 

"  You  will  be  the  most  original  of  manufacturers." 
'•  Oh,  no  ;  they  do  these  things  in  Mexico  and  Cen- 
tral America,"  he  responded.  "  It  is  charming,  the 
way  they  have  of  caressing  their  industrial  establish- 
ments down  there.  A  man  is  no  more  ashamed  to 
live  alongside  his  cotton-mill  or  foundry  than  if  it 
were  a  model  stock-farm  with  us.  As  you  ride  along, 
you  come,  all  at  once,  upon  some  imposing,  castellated 
affair,  with  its  gardens,  terraces,  fountains,  statues, 
and  mediaeval-looking  chapel,  and  find  it  to  be  simply 
a  sugar-refinery  or  ore-reducing  works,  with  the  pro- 
prietor's residence  added." 

"  And  you  propose  to  introduce  all  this  here  ?  " 
"  Oh,  we  can't  expect  to  equal  the  Central  Ameri- 
cans all  at  once,  but  we  shall  probably  work  up  to  it 
by  degrees." 

"  But  —  Paul,  you  know  —  and  an  island,  and 
such  a  paradise,"  broke  in  his  companion,  as  if  struck 
by  a  sudden  reflection,  "  it  is  quite  idyllic.  You 
ought  to  have  some  sort  of  a  Virginia,  also.  You 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  167 

must  find  some  beautiful  maiden  of  the  island,  who 
will  go  about  clad  in  coarse  stuffs  of  Bengal,  and 
Paul  must  bring  her  bird's-nests,  and  shelter  her  from 
the  rain  under  a  huge  banana  leaf." 

"  And  we  must  tell  the  seasons  only  by  their  fruits 
and  flowers,  and  the  hours  of  the  day  only  by  the 
shadows,"  added  Barclay,  readily  entering  into  the 
spirit  of  it.  "  Will  you  not  deign  to  be  our  Virginia, 
for  the  time  being  ?  " 

He  drew  down  over  her  head  the  leaf  of  a  large 
plantain  they  chanced  to  be  in  close  proximity  to  at 
the  moment,  after  the  manner  of  the  well-known  pic- 
ture. 

David  Lane  had  entered  his  conservatory,  to  walk 
briefly,  as  he  was  given  to  doing,  among  his  orchids, 
that  poised  their  curious  shapes  of  butterfly  and  bird 
in  the  air  like  living  things,  and  was  a  witfaess  of 
this  scene.  It  seemed  to  him  to  show  a  peculiarly  in- 
timate relationship  between  the  pair.  It  was  at  last 
time  for  him  to  act,  unless  he  would  abandon  all 
without  a  struggle.  He  scowled  darkly  by  himself, 
but  when  they  came  up  to  him  made  a  lame  pre- 
tense of  civility.  When  Barclay  had  gone,  he  took 
his  daughter  aside,  and,  without  any  reference  to  his 
real  motive,  spoke  to  her  earnestly  of  her  health,  and 
strongly  advised  her  to  go  at  once  on  a  visit  to  New 
York  that  had  been  before  proposed.  He  himself 
would  go  with  her.  Her  physicians  had  recom- 
mended it,  for  the  benefit  of  the  change,  even  if  it 
should  be  only  a  short  one.  Her  inertia  was  at  last 
overcome.  It  is  supposable,  too,  that  the  absence 


168  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

may,  for  certain  reasons,  have  appealed  to  the  better 
judgment  of  Mrs.  Varemberg  as  desirable.  Those 
two,  accordingly,  soon  departed. 

There  came  about,  however,  a  friendly  correspond- 
ence, of  a  desultory  sort,  during  the  separation.  It 
was  sometimes  grave,  sometimes  gay.  The  little  fic- 
tion of  Paul  and  Virginia,  originated  as  described, 
was  further  continued.  Mrs.  Varemberg  had  a  ready 
gift  in  the  humorous  way  with  her  pencil,  and  she 
drew  in  the  corners  of  her  notes  little  caricatures,  to 
which  Barclay  responded  in  kind  as  best  he  could. 
She  showed  the  island,  with  its  palms  and  plaintains, 
always  standing  in  the  conventional  conservatory 
tubs ;  Paul  as  a  barefoot  little  urchin,  with  a  very 
wise  and  knowing  look,  surrounded  by  his  storks  and 
turtles  ;  old  Fahnenstock  as  the  faithful  negro  Do- 
mingo ;  and  Virginia  a  most  demure  and  innocent  lit- 
tle maiden  in  a  striped  cotton  gown.  Barclay  on  the 
other  hand,  in  his  sketches,  endeavored  to  make  her 
something  of  an  arrant  little  coquette. 

The  thousand  miles  of  distance  intervening  be- 
tween them  seemed  to  make  the  expression  of  certain 
sentiments  easier ;  they  sometimes  wrote  more  freely 
than  they  had  talked. 

"  I  want  to  say  to  you,"  wrote  Barclay,  "  that  your 
friendship,  your  intelligent  sympathy  with  my  plans, 
have  been  a  great  assistance  and  happiness  to  me.  I 
do  not  know  what  I  should  have  done  without  you. 
I  think  it  has  been  more  your  kind  encouragement 
than  anything  else  that  has  made  me  go  on." 

In  one  letter  he  described  to  her  a  new  plan  for  a 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  169 

pension  fund  for  his  workmen  that  he  was  endeavor- 
ing to  put  into  practice.  The  fund  was  to  be  made 
up  of  a  small  sum  reserved  from  the  earnings  of 
each  week,  supplemented  by  a  beneficent  provision 
arranged  by  the  management.  Then,  when  a  man 
had  completed  his  labors,  he  would  have  something 
to  take  care  of  him  in  his  old  age.  "  But  these  are 
mere  fag  ends  and  side  issues,"  he  complained. 
"  Why  am  I  not  thoughtful  ?  Why  do  I  not  make 
the  grand  discovery  that  will  produce  for  all  a  robust 
and  plentiful  happiness  ?  You  will  think  so  poorly 
of  a  person  who  can  do  no  better  than  this.  You 
will  cross  him  off  your  books  in  disgust." 

"  Were  your  achievements  greater  than  those  of 
Wilberforce,  or  Adam  Smith,  or  Peter  Cooper,  —  I 
don't  know  but  I  am  making  a  rather  mixed  cata- 
logue," —  she  replied,  "  I  should  always  like  the  man 
better  than  the  philanthropist.  It  seems  to  me  al- 
ready a  great  discovery  that  you  have  found  out  how 
a  master  can  add  to  the  comfort  of  individuals  under 
him  —  But  perhaps  these  are  only  the  simple  ideas 
of  a  poor,  untutored  —  VIRGINIA." 

She  wrote  him  once  from  New  York  of  meeting 
his  sisters  at  a  reception. 

"  They  opened  on  me  with  quite  a  fire  of  questions 
about  you,"  she  said.  "  Is  it  possible  that  you  have 
told  me  more  of  your  affairs  than  you  have  them  ?  I 
am,  naturally,  much  flattered  at  the  suggestion.  I 
was  prepared  to  preserve  your  confidence  as  much  as 
possible,  but  we  were  dragged  apart  by  the  crowd,  — 
and  meantime,  if  I  meet  them  again,  what  am  I  to 
tell  them  ?  " 


170  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

"  Do  not  tell  them  anything,  too  ingenuous  Vir- 
ginia," he  wrote  back  in  alarm.  ''  The  fact  is,  that 
they  are  of  rather  an  interfering  turn.  I  will  tell 
them,  myself,  as  much  as  is  for  their  good,  when  I 
get  around  to  it." 

He  sent  once  a  rude  sketch  as  of  Virginia,  in  this 
new  life,  surrounded  by  admirers,  who  vied  for  the 
honor  of  holding  their  respective  banana  leaves  above 
her  head,  while  Paul  sulked  on  the  island,  with  his 
own  trailing  idly  beside  him,  and  the  tortoises  and 
flamingoes  looking  on  in  sympathy  at  his  dejection. 

David  Lane,  in  this  absence,  would  have  had  her 
be  gay,  amused,  as  different  as  possible  from  her 
usual  self.  It  would  have  pleased  him  to  see  her 
accept  the  small  attentions  of  new  admirers.  As  to 
his  own  objection  to  her  divorce,  to  tell  the  truth,  it 
would  have  been  by  no  means  insuperable,  could  he 
have  been  sure  that,  after  her  release,  she  would 
marry  any  other  than  Paul  Barclay.  His  wish  was 
but  poorly  gratified.  She  was  offered  dinners,  flow- 
ers, opera  boxes,  by  old  friends  and  new.  "  But  what 
humor  am  I  in  for  all  this  ?  "  she  asked.  She  could 
not  adapt  herself  to  distractions.  Her  depression  was 
increased,  too,  by  some  fresh  news  concerning  her 
husband  from  an  authentic  quarter.  Under  the  im- 
mediate influence  of  this,  she  poured  herself  out  to 
Barclay  with  a  poignant  sadness  (and  yet  with  an" ef- 
fort at  self-repression)  that  wrung  his  heart. 

"  I  am  glad  I  am  not  with  you,  to  heap  the  burden 
of  my  sorrows  on  you,  in  my  selfish  way,  even  more 
heavily,"  her  words  ran.  "  Oh,  I  was  made  for  hap- 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  171 

piness,  and  cannot  reconcile  myself  to  life  without  it. 
I  must  have  been  wrong  from  the  first ;  why  have  I 
not  tried  to  be  good  instead  of  to  be  happy  ?  "  Thus 
she  accused  herself,  —  she  whom  he  thought  the  best 
of  human  beings  in  every  thought  and  impulse.  "  I 
suppose  such  as  I  are  needed  as  an  example  to  the 
others  of  the  evils  of  ill-assorted  marriage,  just  as  the 
helots  of  Sparta  were  made  drunk  and  shown  to  the 
patrician  youth,  as  a  warning  against  intemperance." 

She  had  heard  that  Varemberg  had  gone  —  some- 
times under  assumed  names,  sometimes  retaining  his 
own  —  to  Algiers,  South  Africa,  Tonquin,  and  finally 
the  Pacific  Islands,  and  carried  with  him  everywhere 
his  reckless  and  abandoned  courses.  She  seemed  af- 
flicted at  length  with  something  almost  like  nostalgia  ; 
it  was  evident  that  her  sojourn  was  doing  her  no  good, 
and  David  Lane,  having  no  excuse  for  detaining  her 
away  indefinitely,  brought  her  home. 

Barclay  was  privileged  to  see  her  almost  immedi- 
ately on  her  return.  Three  days  later  he  saw  her  again, 
under  peculiar  circumstances.  A  break  had  occurred 
in  the  machinery  at  the  factory,  and  while  this  was 
being  repaired  he  was  not  in  active  demand,  and  set 
out,  one  morning,  to  gratify  a  curiosity  he  had  long 
felt  to  penetrate  to  the  interior  of  the  city  hall,  op- 
posite, climb  to  the  dome,  —  a  favorite  point  of  view 
•  with  strangers,  —  and  visit  the  Golden  Justice  at 
qlose  quarters.  The  mysterious  green  weather-doors 
of  the  city  hall  were  continually  on  the  swing.  They 
admitted  a  motley  group  of  officials,  attorneys,  hang- 
ers-on about  all  the  departments,  teachers  to  see  the 


172  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

superintendent  of  schools,  citizens  to  pay  or  protest 
against  their  taxes,  the  aldermen  with  their  charac- 
teristic air  of  importance,  and,  once  a  month,  the 
county  supervisors,  who  left  their  rusty-looking  wag- 
ons, with  rusty  buffalo-robes  thrown  over  the  seats, 
at  the  curb-stones,  all  day  long ;  and  this  movement 
was  in  progress  to-day  as  usual. 

There  had  been  a  day  and  night  of  successive  rain, 
hail,  thaw,  renewed  freezing,  and  then  a  light  snow- 
fall. It  was  one  of  those  occasions  when  Nature 
produces  from  her  simplest  materials  effects  of  daz- 
zling splendor  that  surpass  Aladdin's  cave,  or  any 
fabled  bowers  of  enchantment.  The  trees,  encased 
in  a  panoply  of  ice  to  their  most  infinitesimal  twigs, 
were  woven  together  in  exquisite  traceries,  as  of 
crystal,  pearl,  and  silver.  A  sky  of  pure,  deep  blue 
stretched  overhead  a  canopy  in  rich  harmony  with 
the  rest.  A  brief  truce  had  been  struck  with  the 
rigors  of  winter,  and  the  atmosphere  was  of  an  al- 
most balmy  mildness. 

Within  the  square,  on  the  diagonal  path  crossing 
it,  Barclay  suddenly  met  Mrs.  Varemberg.  She,  too, 
had  been  drawn  forth  by  the  fascination  of  the  morn- 
ing, and  was  taking  a  short  walk  for  exercise.  Bar- 
clay involuntarily  noted  her  elegantly  simple  raiment 
of  dark  cloth,  fitted  close  to  her  figure,  and  a  small 
bonnet  of  like  material,  a  pompon  at  the  side  of  which 
supplied  the  only  touch  of  color.  She  was  cut  out 
sharply  against  the  carpet  of  snow  behind  her.  The 
air  and  exercise,  with  perhaps  also  the  excitement  of 
the  unexpected  meeting,  gave  her  cheek  an  unwonted 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  173 

color,  her  spirits  an  unusual  animation.  An  ex- 
traordinary change  was  already  manifest,  in  the  short 
interval  since  her  return.  It  impressed  Barclay  some- 
what as  when  the  light  is  suddenly  kindled  in  one  of 
those  oriental  lanterns  that,  without  illumination,  are 
dull  and  opaque.  The  fountain  in  the  centre  of  the 
square,  standing  by,  frozen  in  the  natural  shapes  of 
its  running  water,  assisted  at  their  conference,  like 
some  afrite  out  gf  a  fairy  tale,  Broken  icicles,  from 
the  trees,  crackled  under  Mrs.  Varemberg's  small 
heels.  Barclay  asked  her  gallantly,  — 

"  Are  you  the  princess  who  let  fall  from  her  lips 
showers  of  brilliants,  wherever  she  moved  ?  " 

"  Can  you  doubt  it  ?  I  have  been  talking  to  my- 
self as  I  came  along,"  she  rejoined,  laughing.  "  But 
these  are  only  a  poor  affair :  had  I  known  the  prince, 
in  person,  would  be  abroad  this  morning,  there 
should  have  been  some  far  more  worthy  of  him." 

"  The  prince  was  about  to  explore  the  city  hall 
and  mount  to  the  dome,  —  a  point  of  view  much  rec- 
ommended to  novices  in  the  sights  of  Keewaydin, 
I  hear.  Will  you  not  go  up,  too,  and  chatter  a  little 
there,  for  the  benefit  of  your  subjects,  and  to  keep 
the  Golden  Justice  in  countenance  ?  It  must  be 
long  since  you  have  seen  each  other." 

"  I  feel  quite  capable  of  it  on  such  a  glorious  morn- 
ing, but  I  —  think  it  would  hardly  do.  Besides,  I 
was  on  my  way  to  my  father's  office." 

"  Then  perhaps  the  prince  may  go,  too,  as  far  as 
your  father's  office." 

"  No,"  she  objected  hesitatingly.    "  I  fear  it  would 


174  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

be  rather  conspicuous,  our  walking  together  in  the 
public  streets.  To  speak  frankly,  —  it  is  not  at  all 
an  agreeable  subject  to  talk  about,  —  some  unpleas- 
ant comments  have  been  made.  I  heard  them  even 
before  I  went  away.  'They  come  principally,  I  be- 
lieve, from  a  Mrs.  Rycraft,  the  pleasure  of  whose 
acquaintance  I  do  not  possess/' 

Barclay  raged  inwardly  at  this  evidence  of  lurking 
malice.  "  But  life  is  too  short,"  he  exclaimed,  "  to 
let  our  conduct  be  regulated  by  nonentities  and  busy- 
bodies.  They  have  no  rewards  to  bestow,  worth  the 
having,  even  if  we  conform  ;  not  one  of  them  would 
step  out  of  his  way  a  hair's  breadth  for  one's  real 
pleasure  or  benefit.  It  is  simply  that  if  we  do  not 
conform,  their  energy  is  actively  devoted  to  trying 
to  make  us  uncomfortable." 

'•  Even  a  sentiment  founded  on  so  unreasonable 
a  basis,  I  suppose,  ought  to  be  more  or  less  deferred 
to,"  his  hearer  replied.  "  '  A  man  ought  to  know 
how  to  defy  opinion,  a  woman  to  submit  to  it.'  It 
is  the  old  problem,  mooted  in  Delphine,  you  know." 

"  Bah  !  "  ejaculated  Barclay,  at  first ;  but  he  soon 
endeavored  to  check  the  expression  of  his  discontent, 
for  in  his  heart  he  knew  she  was  right. 

Mrs.  Varemberg  —  though  this  too  was  perhaps 
rather  conspicuous  —  let  him  stroll  with  her  to  the 
posts  at  the  corner  where  the  path  took  its  exit  upon 
the  public  streets. 

"  How  lovely  it  all  is ! "  she  broke  off  in  a  rhap- 
sody. "  It  is  as  if  Nature  had  powdered  her  hair,  in 
the  Pompadour  fashion.  —  you  see  I  must  use  femi- 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  175 

nine  comparisons,  — and  put  on  all  her  laces  and  dia- 
monds." 

"  And  you,  too,  —  it  makes  you  look  so  much  bet- 
ter, so  strong  and  blooming,  one  almost  forgets  "  — 

"  I  will  not  be  told  I  look  '  better,'  "  she  inter- 
rupted saucily ;  "  that  implies  that  at  some  time  I 
have  not  looked  well,  and  no  self-respecting  princess, 
who  drops  jewels  from  her  lips,  will  admit  that." 

"At  any  rate,  I  shall  always  find  it  difficult  here- 
after to  believe  that  there  is  anything  really  serious 
in  your  illness." 

"It  is  only  the  coming  home,"  she  said  more  seri- 
ously. "  It  is  only  a  little  temporary  rally.  Even 
my  exile  here  somehow  seems  now  preferable  to  any- 
thing else ;  the  captive  hugs  her  chains.  Traveling 
tired  me  ;  I  seemed  to  get  all  'of  its  discomforts  and 
none  of  its  pleasures.  You  must  know  I  have  had 
flattering  doctors  tell  me  I  might  even  get  well,  if  I 
were  at  peace  with  myself,  at  rest  within.  But  that 
is  a  very  practical  recipe,  is  it  not  ?  They  might  as 
well  recommend  me  to  get  to  the  moon." 

"  And  you  wear  your  life  out  in  this  cruel  way  for 
what?  It  is  like  the  millions  spent  to  maintain  the 
great  standing  armies  in  peace."  But  he  discreetly 
checked  with  this  his  far-off  reference  to  a  form  of 
relief  he  had  once  before  proposed  to  her. 

"  I  am  reliably  informed,"  said  Mrs.  Varemberg, 
as  they  parted,  "  that  you  have  been  a  misanthrope 
and  recluse  during  my  absence.  You  do  not  go  near 
the  people  who  have  been  polite  to  you.  This  will 
never  do  ;  I  shall  be  held  partly  responsible  for  it. 
We  must  put  a  stop  to  it." 


176  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

"  The  reproach  shall  be  no  longer  deserved  ;  a 
proper  consideration  for  the  feelings  of  Mrs  Rycraft 
alone  demands  it,"  responded  Barclay.  With  that 
his  charming  companion  went  on,  smiling  at  his  sar- 
casm, which  she  did  not  look  upon  as  severe,  while 
he  disappeared  within  the  echoing,  marble  corridors 
of  the  city  hall. 

Its  two  principal  corridors  crossed  each  other  at 
right  angles,  and  their  junction  was  a  rotunda,  open 
to  the  dome  above,  from  which  it  was  somewhat  too 
obscurely  lighted.  Over  the  first  door  encountered 
in  the  rotunda,  to  the  right,  was  to  be  read  the  sign, 
"  Mayor's  Office."  Through  open  doors  down  the 
long  halls  were  seen  the  officials  nonchalantly  at 
work,  or  idle.  The  comptroller  came  out,  in  his 
shirt-sleeves,  with  a  Budget  of  vouchers,  and  entered 
the  office  of  the  county  clerk,  —  for  the  county,  also, 
had  its  share  in  the  costly  building.  A  knot  of  con- 
tractors were  gathered  about  the  door  of  the  Board 
of  Public  Works,  discussing  a  disagreeable  circum- 
stance, and  Barclay  heard,  in  passing,  some  part  of 
their  discourse.  It  seemed  that  Keewaydin  was  a 
city  that  had  enacted  a  prohibition  against  the  in- 
crease of  its  municipal  indebtedness  beyond  a  certain 
per  cent,  of  its  total  property  valuation,  and  it  had 
been  suddenly  discovered  that  this  limit  was  already 
reached.  A  paralyzing  doubt  had  been  set  afloat  by 
the  press,  whether  further  expenditure  of  any  kind 
would  be  lawful  till  another  year's  taxes  were  in. 

Ives  Wilson  now  came  out  of  the  city  attorney's 
office,  gave  Barclay  his  hand,  in  his  bustling  way.  and 
cheerfully  accosted  the  waiting  group. 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  177 

"  There  '11  be  no  letting  of  contracts  to-day,  boys," 
said  he.  "  You  may  as  well  go  home,  and  make 
yourselves  comfortable.  I  have  it  from  the  mayor 
and  the  city  attorney  ;  they  '11  tell  you  themselves 
presently.  There  '&  no  money  in  the  treasury,  and 
there  is  n't  going  to  be  any,  so  you  '11  have  to  get 
your  healths  without  it."  He  seemed  to  have  a  fa- 
miliar acquaintance  with  all  these  men,  Irish,  Ger- 
man, or  American,  as  the  case  might  be,  and  to  be 
as  much  at  home  in  this  stratum  of  society  as  any 
other. 

"  But  we  heard  that  Lane,  or  Jim  DeBow,  or  some 
o'  them  rich  fellers,  would  put  up  the  money  till  the 
next  taxes  was  in,"  said  the  German  contractor,  Klau- 
serman,  eagerly. 

"  So  they  have.  David  Lane  offered  to  do  it,  but 
Jim  DeBow  got  in  ahead  of  him.  But  that  is  to  be 
used  for  necessary  expenses  ;  without  it  we  might 
have  had  to  turn  off  the  gas  and  water,  discharge  the 
police,  and  shut  up  the  public  schools.  There  's 
no  telling  whether  he  '11  ever  get  his  money  back, 
either.'' 

"  It 's  yeer  paper,  so  it  was,  that  sprung  it  on  us, 
and  made  all  the  hullabaloo  ! "  cried  one  Donlan,  em- 
phatically. "  If  yez  had  left  it  alone,  nobody  would 
have  known  the  limit  was  up." 

"  Of  course  it  was,"  assented  the  journalist  glee- 
fully. "  When  you  want  the  news,  come  to  the  In- 
dex. The  rest  of  them  will  give  you  your  ancient 
history  and  dead  languages.  The  Index  deals  in  facts 
of  the  present  day." 


ITS  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

"  Stop  my  paper,  ye  divil !  "  said  Donlan,  a  con- 
tractor of  leading  importance. 

'"  We  could  n't  think  of  it,  John.  We  would  n't 
let  you  do  yourself  a  damage  you  'd  never  recover 
from." 

The  circle,  though  indignant,  remained  perhaps  but 
the  more  imbued  with  the  mysterious  reverence  with 
which  the  common  mind  invests  the  newspaper  pro- 
fession. Ives  Wilson  and  his  Index  —  which  were, 
besides,  clearly  in  the  right  of  it  in  the  present 
case  —  were  by  uo  means  to  be  judged  by  common 
rules. 

Barclay  had  sent  to  the  janitor  for  the  key,  but 
now  learned  that  it  was  already  in  use.  It  had  been 
taken  by  some  other  visitors,  who  had  preceded  him 
to  the  dome.  He  set  out,  therefore,  on  his  climb  up 
the  broad,  principal  iron  staircase.  He  reached  first 
the  story  of  the  handsome  council  chamber,  the  county 
court,  where  one  Moses  Levy  was  on  trial  for  the 
firing  of  his  store,  to  get  the  insurance  money ;  and 
the  circuit  court  of  coordinate  jurisdiction,  where  a 
recess  was  being  taken  to  procure  the  attendance  of 
a  witness.  He  had  to  ascend  next  a  narrower,  more 
winding  staircase.  He  passed  through  a  great  attic, 
where  the  ribs  and  braces  of  the  construction  plainly 
showed,  and,  opening,  finally,  a  small  door,  stepped 
out  into  a  sudden  glare  of  light,  and  to  a  narrow  bal- 
cony and  promenade  extending  around  the  dome. 

When  he  had  recovered  his  eyesight  and  taken  his 
bearings  a  little,  he  was  disappointed  to  find  himself 
still  so  far  remote  from  the  Golden  Justice.  He  had 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  179 

not  been  able  to  estimate  its  height  while  climbing, 
and  this  level,  to  which  the  general  public  were  re- 
stricted, was  at  a  long  remove  even  from  the  lowest 
part  of  her  pedestal.  He  looked  down  at  the  view, 
and  again  upward  to  catch  some  clearer  glimpse  of 
the  details  of  the  figure.  Passing  slowly  round  the 
promenade  in  this  way,  he  came  upon  a  figure  lean- 
ing on  the  railing,  with  that  musing  air  that  a  balcony 
tends  to  impart,  and  recognized,  with  a  start,  David 
Lane. 

But  the  elder  man  was  far  more  startled  than  he, 
and  wore  almost  a  detected,  guilty  air.  Barclay  had 
never  seen  him  quite  thus  before.  His  presence  here 
was  extraordinary  ;  a  person  of  his  sort  would  by  no 
means  be  expected  to  bring  up  hither  the  weight  of 
his  age  and  infirmities,  and  at  such  a  season  of  the 
year,  for  his  own  pleasure.  Yet  strange  as  it  was, 
the  wonderment  of  Barclay  was  not  so  extreme  as  to 
give  it  its  impressiveness  ;  it  was  the  trouble  in  his 
own  conscience. 

They  two  were  alone  on  the  dome,  with  but  small 
probability  of  being  interrupted.  David  Lane  aimed 
to  recover  his  usual  composure,  but,  even  when  he 
had  done  so,  to  reassume  his  late  churlishness  was 
out  of  the  question. 

"  I  had  some  business  with  the  mayor  on  this  finan- 
cial imbroglio,  and  when  that  was  over  the  notion 
took  me,  for  once  in  a  way,  to  come  up  here,  for  — 
for  the  benefit  of  the  exercise.  I  am  not  beyond  the 
need  of  a  bit  of  exercise  yet,"  he  explained. 

It  was  thus  he  endeavored  to  disguise  the  prompt- 


180  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

ings  of  an  uneasy  mind  that  sometimes  drew  him  to 
the  place,  as  the  murderer  is  drawn  to  revisit  the 
scene  of  his  crime.  He  had  been,  too,  if  Barclay 
did  but  know  it,  to  a  very  much  higher  level  than  this 
at  which  they  now  stood ;  he  had  climbed  by  a  steep 
and  recondite  way,  with  many  a  gasp  and  breathing 
spell,  to  see  that  the  lower  fastenings  of  the  Golden 
Justice  were  still  secure. 

"  The  financial  difficulty  you  speak  of  has  inter- 
ested me  very  much,"  said  Barclay  affably,  puzzled 
by,  yet  trying  to  ignore,  the  apparent  confusion  of 
the  other.  .  "  I  have  come  to  realize,  I  think  for  the 
first  time,  that  there  may  be  over-sanguine,  improv- 
ident, bankrupt  cities  as  well  as  people." 

"  Yes,  there  are  many  of  them  in  the  West,  and  I 
believe  they  are  not  unknown  in  the  East.  There  is 
a  notable  instance  in  this  vicinity  of  a  town  so  mort- 
gaged to  railroads  (that  have  never  been  built,  by 
the  way)  that  it  has  for  years  been  subject  to  be  sold 
out  under  the  hammer,  only  no  legal  body  could  be 
found  to  serve  the  papers  on.  As  soon  as  there  is 
any  move  of  the  sort  the  city  council  disbands,  or 
holds  its  meetings  in  hiding." 

"And  was  it  some  flagrant  piece  of  corruption 
that  caused  Keewaydin  to  adopt  its  present  provi- 
sion ?  " 

"  No,  it  was  mainly  a  piece  of  prudent  forethought, 
derived  from  the  experience  of  others.  I  do  not 
think  Keewaydin  has  ever  been  a  very  corrupt  place. 
The  many  rival  elements  keep  too  strict  a  watch  on 
each  other  for  that.  We  have  our  talk  of  'rings,' 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  181 

and  '  bosses,'  it  is  true,  but  I  sometimes  fancy  our  pa- 
pers only  borrow  the  terms  with  a  certain  pride,  to 
give  us  a  metropolitan  air." 

They  were  now  looking  down  on  the  city,  and  they 
exchanged  some  few  comments  about  it.  Its  masses 
looked  smaller  than  usual,  reduced  to  their  lowest 
terms,  as  it  were,  by  being  cut  out  against  the  inter- 
spaces of  snow.  The  telegraph  wires  connected  all 
parts  of  it  together,  like  the  exposed  nerves  of  some 
living  organism.  From  the  white  streets  the  faint 
jingle  of  sleigh-bells  came  up  to  them ;  on  the  after- 
noon of  such  a  day  all  the  world  would  be  on  run- 
ners. Barclay  could  contemplate  his  own  lodging 
in  the  square  below  ;  at  a  distance  could  be  discerned 
the  chimneys  of  his  factory,  and  David  Lane's  house 
at  a  distance.  The  mysterious  lake  spread  its  ex- 
panse afar,  with  here  and  there  some  bank  of  mist  or 
low-lying  cloud,  out  of  which  came  an  occasional 
twinkle  of  the  ice,  as  if  some  celestial  lance  had  been 
splintered  there. 

"  And  you,"  said  David  Lane,  —  "  what  brings  you 
up  so  high,  if  one  may  ask  ?  " 

"  This  view,  which  alone  repays  one,  but  still 
more,  to  speak  frankly,  the  Golden  Justice.  She 
has  allured  me  from  a  distance,  and  I  had  just  been 
saying  to  myself,  when  I  met  you,  how  disappointed 
I  was  not  to  find  myself  nearer ;  I  had  hoped  to  come 
out  at  her  very  foot." 

Oh,  fatality!  to  see  the  Golden  Justice?  Alas, 
that  he  should  be  met  with  here  on  such  an  errand ! 

"  This  is  as  high  as  one  can  get,"  said  David  Lane 


182  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

coldly.  '•  A  special  permit  is  needed  to  go  further, 
and  even  that  is  of  no  avail.  It  is  a  painful  climb, 
and  there  is  no  egress  but  by  a  trap-door ;  nor  any 
means  of  approaching  the  statue  itself,  after  that,  un- 
less one  should  use  a  scaling  ladder." 

No  one  knew  better  than  he  whereof  he  spoke. 

"  And  why  has  the  Golden  Justice  allured  you  ?  " 
he  went  on  to  ask. 

"  I  have  an  eye  for  the  decorative,  and  she  ap- 
pealed to  me  as  a  pleasing  object,  shining  so  golden 
yellow  against  her  field  of  deep  blue  ;  but  when  I 
heard  that  the  features  were  those  of  Mrs.  Varem- 
berg  I  found  my  interest  at  last  fully  accounted  for." 

Barclay  was  not  averse  to  bringing  on  an  explana- 
tion of  the  anomalous  condition  of  affairs,  since  the 
time  and  circumstances  were  favorable  for  it.  David 
Lane  seemed  to  incline  in  the  same  direction. 

"Mrs.  Varemberg  still  much  occupies  your  thoughts, 
then  ?  "  he  asked,  gravely  attentive. 

"  You  know  how  much  she  once  occupied  them. 
Well,  all  that  is  past  and  gone ;  destiny  was  opposed 
to  it,  and,  with  time,  my  views  have  changed.  Since 
she  honors  me  with  her  friendship,  I  trust  there  is 
nothing  in  what  has  passed  to  make  me  withhold 
from  her  the  tribute  of  my  most  respectful  esteem, 
admiration,  and  sympathy,  and  my  desire  to  be  of 
service  to  her  in  any  possible  way." 

Barclay  dwelt  with  emphasis  on  the  high-minded, 
disinterested  character  of  his  regard,  hoping  to  vin- 
dicate himself  from  suspicions  that  he  sometimes 
thought  might  be  at  the  bottom  of  the  opposition  of 


THE   U  OLD  EN  JUSTICE.  183 

David  Lane.  Possibly  the  latter  knew  him  better 
than,  at  this  time,  he  knew  himself. 

"Yes,  the  features  are  those  of  my  daughter  Flor- 
ence," said  the  ex-governor.  "  We  did  not  know, 
aiid  were  not  wholly  pleased  with  the  resemblance  at 
first ;  it  was  the  artist's  eccentric  way  of  paying  us  a 
compliment."  He  answered  soberly,  but  not  resent- 
fully. He  was  in  fact  in  a  sort  of  daze,  and  made 
no  offer  to  continue  the  conversation.  An  awkward 
pause  ensued. 

Barclay  looked  up  again  at  the  huge  bulk  of  the 
figure,  from  the  drapery  of  which  broad  reflections 
glinted  down  into  their  eyes. 

"  It  seems  she  was  utilized  somewhat  like  a  corner- 
stone," said  he,  in  the  most  cursory  way.  "  I  have 
been  told  that  documents  were  sealed  up  in  her." 

Lane  was  as  if  thunderstruck.  He  fell  to  trem- 
bling, with  an  agitation  such  as  even  he  had  rarely 
known,  and  to  hide  it  he  altered  his  position,  moving 
a  little  further  along  the  railing. 

"It  is  a  curious  instance;  I  don't  know  that  I 
ever  heard  of  one  before,"  pursued  Barclay,  in  the 
same  easy  tone.  "  It  seems  reserved  for  Keewaydin 
to  do  original  things,  in  a  number  of  ways.  The 
whole  matter  of  deposits  in  corner-stones  sometimes 
impresses  one  curiously.  We  leave  dispatch-boxes, 
as  it  were,  along  the  roadside,  to  be  opened  by  those 
who  come  after  us,  to  give  them  news  of  us  and  our 
times.  It  is  a  little  odd,  however,  considering  all  the 
corner-stones  that  are  dedicated,  how  rarely  you  hear 
of  one  being  opened.  Is  it  because  it  is  too  soon 


184  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

yet  for  our  buildings  to  have  begun  to  tumble  down, 
flimsy  though  so  many  of  them  are?  Or  is  there 
really  no  interest  in  the  contents,  these  being  so  very 
trite  when  reached  ?  " 

"No  doubt  it  is  due  to  the  comparative  unimpor- 
tance of  the  matters  generally  on  deposit,"  replied 
David  Lane,  in  a  voice  scarcely  audible,  struggling 
manfully  to  retain  the  mastery  of  himself. 

"  It  would  be  more  considerate,  though,  if  one  gen- 
eration would  arrange  little  surprises  for  the  next. 
What  was  it,  for  instance,  you  put  into  the  Golden 
Justice  ?  " 

Oh,  fatality  I  fatality  !  Was  it  not  enough  that 
this  young  man,  of  all  others  in  the  world,  should 
have  found  them  out  in  Europe,  and  become  a  suitor 
for  his  daughter's  hand?  Was  it  not  enough  that 
avoidance  of  this  should  have  precipitated  such  la- 
mentable unhappiness?  No,  he  must  follow  them 
here,  establish  himself  in  the  place,  even  interest 
himself  in  the  statue,  mount  to  the  dome,  and  be  met 
with  to-day  under  its  very  aegis.  Nor  this  alone  ;  for 
now  at  last,  with  an  unconsciousness  that  but  made  it 
the  more  startling,  he  must  put  the  finger  of  specula- 
tion on  the  very  box  and'its  contents,  on  the  confes- 
sion itself.  To  what  but  one  fatal  result  could  all 
this  concentration  of  events,  all  these  successive  ap- 
proaches, this  remorseless  narrowing  of  the  circle,  be 
tending  ?  The  utmost  efforts  had  availed  to  hinder 
no  single  step  of  its  progress. 

"  It  was  very  long  ago,"  replied  David  Lane.  "  At 
this  distance  of  time  it  is  not  easy  to  remember, — 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  185 

reports,  statistics,  the  newspapers,  I  suppose ;  they 
could  hardly  have  been  anything  of  great  moment." 

"Alfsen,  an  old  weather-prophet  in  my  vicinity, 
the  other  day  predicted  that  the  Golden  Justice  would 
come  down,  and  I  should  see  the  deposit  scattered 
about  my  feet.  I  shall  naturally  be  on  the  lookout 
for  it  with  interest." 

"  He  predicts  that  the  Golden  Justice  will  fall  ?  " 
repeated  the  elder  man  in  horror.  He  involuntarily 
cast  another  glance  up  at  the  mammoth,  figure  tower- 
ing above  them.  She  was  certainly  secure  enough 
at  present. 

"  Oh,  a  piece  of  garrulous  nonsense.  He  keeps 
up  some  old  grudge  for  not  having  been  allowed  to 
do  all  the  work  he  wanted  to  on  the  city  hall.  Even 
prophecy,  it  appears,  cannot  free  itself  from  the  bias 
of  personal  motives." 

David  Lane  made  something  like  a  half  circuit  of 
the  short  promenade,  then  turned  back  upon  his 
track,  with  a  very  altered  bearing :  as  well  as  one 
so  much  troubled  in  mind  and  so  reserved  by  recent 
habit  could  do  so,  he  assumed  towards  the  young  man 
an  open  and  friendly  demeanor. 

"  I  am  glad  to  have  met  you  here,"  he  began. 
"This  situation,  apart  by  ourselves,  and  free  from 
danger  of  interruption,  gives  me  almost  my  first  op- 
portunity of  welcoming  you  to  the  place.  I  seem  to 
have  seen  far  too  little  of  you  since  your  arrival.  I 
trust  it  is  not  too  late  to  express  the  real  interest  I 
feel  in  you  and  your  affairs,  and  to  ask  if  there  is 
any  way  in  which  I  can  be  of  service." 


186  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

'*  I  confess  I  had  sometimes  thought  your  feelings 
towards  me  were  quite  of  an  opposite  sort,"  returned 
Barclay,  much  surprised. 

"Oh,  no;  why  should  you  think  so?  Why  should 
it  be  so?  You  are  a  young  man,  and  I  an  old  one. 
I  have  many  cares  and  troubles,  and  perhaps,  some- 
times, an  unfortunate  manner." 

Had  Barclay  desired  to  justify  his  opinion,  he 
would  have  cited  the  rejection  of  his  suit,  together 
with  a  long  course  of  marked  coldness.  But  of  what 
avail?  And  what  warrant  had  he,  after  all,  for 
questioning  a  father's  disposition  of  his  daughter's 
hand,  in  the  supposed  interest  of  her  happiness,  even 
by  means  of  a  certain  subterfuge  ?  To  re-open  the 
subject,  furthermore,  he  feared  might  arouse  distrust 
anew,  and  defeat  the  greater  freedom  of  action  that 
seemed  promised  him. 

"  Will  you  tell  me  about  your  enterprise  and  your 
present  prospects  ?  "  asked  David  Lane. 

Barclay,  thus  encouraged,  proceeded  to  give  a 
brief,  orderly  account  of  the  whole,  from  the  first. 
This  statement  added  to  Lane's  sense  of  an  inevita- 
ble fatality  pursuing  him.  The  investment  was  one 
such  as  might  have  commended  itself  to  the  judgment 
of  any  shrewd  cool-headed  man  of  business.  It  was 
no  mere  pretext  for  remaining,  and  the  circumstances 
were  such  that,  given  Barclay's  peculiar  requirements, 
it  would  have  been  almost  reprehensible  not  to  have 
entered  into  it 

They  descended  the  stairs  together.  Lane  offered 
Barclay  his  hand,  at  parting,  with  a  cordiality  in 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  187 

which,  however,  was  mingled  an  indescribable  shrink- 
ing. He  wished  him  to  come  and  dine,  but  it  hap- 
pened that  day  that  Barclay  could  not.  Thereafter, 
for  a  considerable  time,  it  was  not  alone  Mrs.  Va- 
remberg's  invitations  and  friendly  offices  he  accepted, 
but  her  father's  as  well.  The  two  men  were  seen 
amicably  together  on  the  street  and  on  'Change,  and 
the  wise  business  head  of  David  Lane  offered  coun- 
sels that  even  brought  profit  to  the  Stamped-Ware 
Works. 

And  what  did  it  all  mean  ?  Why,  simply  this  : 
when  the  hapless  Montezuma  knew  that  the  invading 
Spaniards,  the  Children  of  the  Sun,  destined  to  be 
the  destroyers  of  himself  and  his  people,  had  landed 
on  his  coasts,  he  sent  costly  presents,  to  endeavor  to 
turn  them  aside  from  their  march  to  his  capital.  So 
David  Lane  haplessly  aimed  to  propitiate  the  mes- 
senger by  means  of  whom  Destiny  seemed  stretching 
forth  a  long  arm  for  his  destruction.  It  was  not  that 
he  was  more  reconciled  to  his  fate  than  before,  or 
saw  clearly,  as  yet,  the  means  of  its  accomplish- 
ment ;  but  in  the  mood  in  which  he  found  himself  for 
the  time  being,  further  struggle,  further  resistance, 
seemed  useless. 


IX. 

A    WINSOME    APPARITION. 

THE  retirement  in  which  Mrs.  Varemberg  lived 
had  no  doubt  contributed  to  keep  the  full  measure  of 
her  intimacy  with  Barclay  from  the  public  observa- 
tion. It  took  place  at  her  father's  house,  under  the 
eye  of  her  father  and  aunt,  and  could  not  be  charged 
with  impropriety.  The  intrusive  tongue  of  gossip 
began  at  last  to  wag,  however,  and  Barclay,  in  a 
punctilious  devotion  to  the  interests  of  his  friend, 
thought  best  to  take  cognizance  of  it.  He  would 
have  been  sorry,  furthermore,  to  have  really  deserved 
the  reproach  of  ingratitude  for  the  courtesies  that 
had  been  shown  him  in  the  place  ;  and  so,  on  many 
accounts  and  in  spite  of  the  improved  opportunity 
open  to  him  by  the  allayed  opposition  of  David  Lane, 
he  for  a  while  saw  considerably  less  of  Mrs.  Varem- 
berg and  more  of  general  society. 

The  snow,  at  Keewaydin,  lay  white  and  firm  on  the 
ground  for  many  months,  and,  instead  of  an  enemy, 
was  made  to  be  an  ally  and  friend  in  all  the  daily  af- 
fairs of  life.  There  was  coasting  down  the  long,  steep 
streets,  followed  by  dancing  and  suppers,  in  which 
some  elderly  persons  of  prominence,  as  well  as  the 
young,  took  part.  Barclay  did  not  hold  himself  above 
this  diversion.  He  joined  more  than  once  the  merry 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  189 

procession  of  sleigh-riders  on  Grand  Avenue.  He. 
went  by  invitation,  to  a  session  of  the  young  women's 
Saturday  Morning  Club,  and  finally  he  even  selected 
a  partner  to  accompany  him  to  that  most  brilliant  so- 
cial event  of  the  winter,  the  annual  Charity  Ball. 

The  choice  of  this  partner  was  determined  by  an 
incident  at  the  Saturday  Morning  Club.  He  was  one 
of  a  few  masculine  visitors  admitted  to  these  favored 
precincts  on  some  rare  occasons,  as  that  of  a  lecture 
or  the  like.  Justine  DeBow  was  there,  among  the 
others.  She  was  seized  with  a  sudden  dizziness. 
Barclay  happened  to  be  beside  her,  and  aided  her. 
It  was  held  by  some  that  this  fainting  was  but  as- 
sumed, on  the  part  of  Miss  DeBow,  to  draw  attention 
to  herself  and  monopolize  the  services  of  the  admired 
guest  of  the  occasion,  and  several  others  wished  they 
had  bethought  them  of  the  same  opportune  device. 
The  elfish  Miss  Shadwell,  with  a  face  like  a  withered 
apple,  found  opportunity  to  approach  him  about  Jus- 
tine. She  would  have  liked  to  do  so  about  Mrs. 
Varemberg,  also,  but  that  she  felt  compelled  to  re- 
serve to  another  time. 

"  We  all  like  and  admire  Justine  so  much,"  she 
said.  "  She  has  only  one  drawback." 

"  And  what  is  that  ?  " 

"  You  never  see  her  mother." 

"  I  have  not  observed  that  American  mothers  are 
ever  unnecessarily  visible,"  he  returned,  wondering  to 
what  this  tended. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  know  they  are  a  retiring  class,  who 
think  it  is  not  their  bright  eyes  visitors  come  to  see ; 


190  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

but  this  is  something  different.  DeBow,  when  quite 
young,  married  a  very  common,  ungrammatical  sort 
of  a  person,  —  a  servant  in  a  hotel,  in  fact.  They 
say  he  was  captivated  by  her  good  looks,  but  she  has 
bravely  got  over  them.  They  keep  her  discreetly  in 
the  background,  under  pretense  that  "  — 

"  I  do  not  find  it  an  interesting  subject !  "  exclaimed 
Barclay  impatiently. 

"  Oh,  people  do  not  snap  me  up,"  said  Miss  Shad- 
well  ;  "  It 's  of  no  use.  I  say  things,  you  know : 
others  think  them." 

But  her  hearer  had  already  turned  away,  as  ab- 
ruptly as  might  be  without  marked  rudeness. 

This,  then,  was  one  cause  of  the  reserve  and  dig- 
nified little  airs  assumed  by  Justine  DeBow.  Her 
hauteur  was  but  a  manifestation  of  sensitiveness,  a 
species  of  defensive  armor.  He  construed  it  quite 
as  favorably  as  it  probably  deserved,  and  it  added  a 
touch  of  interest  to  her  case.  Largely  in  protest 
against  her  spiteful  little  assailant,  yielding  to  a  quix- 
otic impulse  of  the  moment,  he  begged  her  to  be  his 
companion  at  the  coming  Charity  Ball. 

When  the  evening  of  the  ball  arrived,  he  called 
for  her  towards  nine  o'clock,  in  a  carriage  of  his 
own  providing,  after  the  custom  of  the  place.  They 
had  no  chaperon,  and  they  might  return  at  whatever 
hour  they  would  in  the  same  simple  fashion.  He 
waited  for  her  in  the  parlor,  while  she  above  put 
some  finishing  touches  to  a  much  more  elaborate 
toilette  than  usual.  Good  Mrs.  DeBow  took  this 
occasion  to  come  in  and  greet  him.  She  entered  in 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  191 

a  diffident  way,  making  a  pretext  of  seeing  that  an- 
other gas-burner  was  lighted  ;  then  sat  down  on  the 
edge  of  a  chair  and  talked  to  him.  She  had  heard 
his  inquiries  after  her  at  various  times,  and  felt  within 
herself  that  he  was  one  who  appreciated  her.  She 
had  said  to  her  daughter  more  than  once  that  he  was 
a  real  gentleman,  and  not  a  mere  imitation,  like  so 
many  who  came  there.  She  was  by  no-  means  con- 
vinced in  her  own  mind  that  her  discourse  was  wor- 
thy of  the  severe  repression  with  which  it  was  cus- 
tomarily visited  in  the  house.  It  was  at  present  full 
of  solecisms,  but  there  was  also  an  attempt  in  her 
manner  at  an  elegant  formality,  of  which  Justine's 
was  a  curious  echo. 

This  conversation  was  in  full  progress  when  Jus- 
tine came  down.  Her  brow  grew  dark  at  the  sight ; 
she  knew  what  naturally  must  have  happened.  Tears 
of  mortification  sprang  to  her  eyes.  At  the  front 
door  she  wavered,  seeking  if  there,  were  not  some 
pretext  on  which  she  could  refuse  to  set  forth,  but  it 
was  too  late  to  retreat. 

Barclay  saw  this,  in  spite  of  himself,  and  did  his 
utmost  to  reassure  her.  He  employed  a  peculiar 
fineness  of  manner,  neither  too  easy  nor  formal.  He 
appeared  neither  to  overlook  the  circumstance  by 
which  she  was  troubled,  nor  to  be  impressed  by  it. 
You  would  have  said  he  had  never  talked  to  mothers 
who  comported  themselves  any  differently. 

"  Ah,"  thought  the  girl  with  gratitude,  "  he  does 
not  mind  it." 

This  unusual  beginning  of  the  evening  no  doubt 


192  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

had  its  influence  on  the  whole  course  of  it ;  there 
seemed  a  certain  need  of  continuing  the  same  air  of 
reassurance  and  devotion.  Two  persons  looked  on 
at  this  with  unquiet  minds.  The  one  was  Lieutenant 
Gregg,  who  had  long  been  enamored  of  Justine.  A 
fierce  displeasure  afflicted  the  excellent  officer  at  the 
appearance  of  so  good  an  understanding  between  the 
couple.  The  other  was  Mrs.  Varemberg,  who  —  a 
thing  highly  unusual  for  her  —  had  come  to  the  ball, 
to  remain  a  short  time  as  a  spectator.  When  Bar- 
clay went  to  pay  his  respects  to  her,  in  the  box  where 
she  sat  with  her  father,  she  received  him  but  coldly. 
She  resented  his  slowness  in  coming,  and  also  what 
she  deemed  his  whole  neglect  of  her  of  late,  based 
though  this  was,  as  we  have  seen,  upon  his  prudent 
regard  for  her  own  fair  fame.  Is  it,  then,  credible 
that  jealousy,  some  trace  of  which  perhaps  lurks, 
tiger-like,  in  even  the  softest  of  feminine  breasts,  had 
sprung  up  in  that  of  Mrs.  Varemberg,  —  she  who  had 
no  worldly  future,  no  warrant  to  her  own  freedom, 
nor  right  to  be  the  slightest  check  upon  that  of  any 
other  ?  Alas,  what  new  calamity  did  this  dangerous 
feeling  portend?  She  resolved,  as  soon  as  she  was 
sensible  of  it,  that  she  would  tear  it  from  her  heart ; 
it  should  have  no  real  foothold  there.  She  pleaded 
an  indisposition,  and  very  soon  withdrew. 

Thenceforth,  for  some  time,  she  adopted  a  new  role 
of  conduct,  a  stricter  seclusion  than  before,  and  de- 
nied herself  even  to  Barclay  as  well  as  the  others. 
Her  father,  witnessing  with  astonishment  this  repulse 
of  Barclay,  felt  for  the  first  time  something  like  posi- 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  193 

tive  cheerfulness.  The  bugbear  that  had  so  dismayed 
him  seemed,  after  all,  to  have  no  real  existence ;  the 
alarming  friendship  had  fallen  to  pieces  of  its  own 
accord,  by  its  own  weight. 

Barclay  marveled,  during  this  time,  that  Mrs.  Var- 
emberg  should  be  moved  to  carry  his  own  purpose  to 
so  much  greater  an  extreme  ;  but  he  was  used  to  con- 
struing her  favorably,  and,  if  his  glance,  in  their  rare 
meetings,  sought  hers  in  involuntary  questioning,  he 
made  no  open  question  of  her  conduct.  In  his  eyes 
whatever  she  did  was  right.  He  was  first  apprised 
of  the  embittered  state  of  mind  of  Lieutenant  Gregg 
through  some  quite  offensive  conduct  towards  him,  on 
the  lieutenant's  part,  at  that  ambitious  social  organ- 
ization, —  an  imitation  of  prototypes  in  larger  cities, 
—  the  Keewaydin  Club. 

It  was  thus,  among  other  things,  that  Barclay  came 
to  know  that  he  could  not  apply  in  person  to  Gregg 
for.  aid  in  the  case  of  William  Alfsen. 

The  unpleasantness  was  finally  settled  through  the 
good  offices  of  Ives  Wilson. 

Such  misconception  of  Barclay's  small  courtesies 
to  Justine  DeBow  was  absurd.  Nevertheless,  he  de- 
termined to  give  no  further  occasion  for  it.  As  he 
seemed  to  have  made  so  bad  a  business  of  his  at- 
tempt to  show  local  society  a  proper  recognition  of  its 
favors,  he  turned  away  from  it  all  with  a  new  in- 
difference, and  gaVe  to  his  factory  a  yet  more  com- 
plete attention. 

The  lieutenant  was  now  left  the  clearest  possible 
field  in  the  quarter  to  which  his  aspirations  extended. 


1»)4  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

Miss  Justine  DeBow,  however,  put  her  own  construc- 
tion upon  what  she  deemed  Barclay's  avoidance  of 
her.  It  was  not  long  before  she  approached  her 
mother,  and  in  a  painful  scene  —  one  of  not  unusual 
occurrence  in  that  household  —  said  to  her:  — 

"  It  was  because  you  went  into  the  parlor,  and  he 
heard  you  talk,  that  he  stays  away.  He  is  not  used 
to  it ;  he  will  never  come  here  any  more." 

"  I  know  I  ought  not  to  have  done  it.  I  will  not 
disgrace  you  again,"  returned  the  mother,  accepting 
the  charge  with  a  full  measure  of  abject  humility. 

"I  —  I  did  not  mean  that,"  said  the  daughter,  a 
little  staggered  herself  at  this  way  of  putting  it. 
"  But  oh,  why  would  you  not  learn,  when  I  tried  so 
hard  with  you  ?  "  and  she  broke  into  hysterical  sobs, 
"  Not  to  use  long  words,  and  not  to  say  '  I  done  it ' 
and  '  I  seen  it '  and  '  them  are,'  and  —  and  —  just  a 
few  others,"  thus  she  summed  up  the  educational 
system  with  which  she  had  sought  to  alleviate  her 
chagrin. 

"  Don't  cry  so,  deary.  I  will  try,  —  I  will  try," 
protested  her  listener,  who,  fair  enough  though  she 
was  in  the  other  relations  of  life,  an  especially  tender 
mother,  and  a  person,  too,  of  a  certain  good  judg- 
ment, was  so  obtuse  in  her  faculties  through  early 
neglect  of  them  as  never  to  have  been  able  to  master 
even  the  simple  educational  system  outlined  above. 
Her  husband  had  undertaken  it  with  a  will  shortly 
after  his  imprudent  marriage,  and  so  had  her  children 
in  turn  as  they  arrived  at  years  to  be  mortified  by  it, 
but  all  alike  had  proved  in  vain. 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  195 

New  Year's  Day  —  one  of  the  old-fashioned  sort 
—  soon  arrived.  The  custom  of  making  calls,  since 
fallen  into  abeyance,  was  kept  up  at  Keewaydin  with 
great  spirit.  To  call  was  almost  a  religious  obser- 
vance. The  streets  were  gayly  alive  all  day  with 
sleigh-loads  of  men,  in  couples  and  quartettes,  going 
to  and  from  the  houses  of  friends,  each  priding  him- 
self on  filling  the  largest  list.  Nor  was  it  the  young 
alone  who  ventured  forth  ;  there  were  elderly  bach- 
elors in  the  concourse  ;  husbands,  growing  lax  about- 
social  observances,  were  laughingly  driven  out  by 
their  helpmeets  from  their  comfortable  firesides  ;  and 
even  urchins,  arrayed  in  their  best,  began  a  society 
career  by  making  their  dancing-school  bows  in  the 
parlors  of  friends  of  the  family. 

Barclay  counted  on  finding  Mrs.  Varemberg  at 
home  on  that  day,  if  on  no  other  ;  and  so  it  proved. 
Her  father's  house  was  open,  as  became  his  position, 
but  without  parade,  and  it  was  she  who  had  mainly  to 
do  the  honors  of  hospitality.  When  Barclay  arrived, 
she  sat,  in  reverie,  before  a  wood  fire,  in  a  temporary 
lull  of  the  calling.  It  was  between  daylight  and 
dark,  and  the  lamps  were  not  yet  lighted ;  the  short 
winter  afternoon  had  yet  been  further  shortened  by  a 
lowering  sky,  and  snow-flakes  were  beginning  to  whirl 
coldly  down.  The  thick,  soft  carpet  gave  so  little 
response  to  the  step  of  the  visitor  that  he  was  beside 
her  before  she  knew  it. 

"  What  do  you  see  in  the  fire  ? "  he  asked,  after 
he  had  touched,  in  an  easy  way,  on  some  of  the 
events  of  the  day.  "  That  is  a  question  always  in 


196  TEE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

order  when  one  is  discovered  looking  so  fixedly  at 
it." 

"  I  see  you  there,  among  other  things." 

"  I  trust  I  have  not  been  tried  in  your  crucible  and 
found  wanting  ?  " 

"  That  remains  to  be  ascertained.  I  was  thinking 
that  I  was  rather  tired  of  seclusion,  and  had  perhaps 
been  overdoing  it,  and  that  I  might  send  for  you,  if 
you  did  not  happen  in.  Would  you  have  come,  if  I 
had  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no ;  of  course  nothing  would  have  induced 
me  to,"  he  replied,  seating  himself  beside  her.  "  But 
now  that  it  is  proper  to  speak  of  it,  I  don't  quite  un- 
derstand what  it  was  all  about.  "We  have  scarcely 
met  long  enough  to  exchange  two  words  since  the 
Charity  Ball." 

"  We  can  stand  so  little  pleasure,  in  this  life,  that 
we  have  to  make  up  for  it  by  long  periods  of  depres- 
sion afterwards." 

"  I  should  hardly  have  thought  the  ecstasy  of  a 
Keewaydin  Charity  Ball  so  great  as  that." 

"Well,  then,  it  was  one  of  my  moods, —  that  is 
all :  you  must  know  I  have  them  sometimes  ?  " 

And  this  was  all  the  explanation  given  —  till  a 
long  time  after.  She  had  fought  the  battle  out  with 
herself,  and  determined  to  throw  open  her  doors 
again,  and  reap  from  this  friendship,  which  filled  so 
important  a  place  in  her  life,  whatever  solace  it  was 
capable  of  affording,  while  it  was  still  vouchsafed  to 
her.  She  talked  now  of  friendship ;  made  a  theory, 
as  people  are  given  to  doing,  to  strengthen  them- 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  197 

selves  in  insecure  positions,  that  friendship  was  the 
greatest  good,  and  quite  sufficient  for  human  happi- 
ness without  any  admixture  of  the  warmer  sentiment. 

"  The  quiet  stars  alone,"  she  said,  using  this  as  a 
comparison,  "  supply  a  great  part  of  the  heat  of  our 
globe." 

"  They  raise  its  temperature  from  nothing  at  all 
to  one  hundred  degrees  below  zero,  and  the  sun  does 
the  rest ;  but  few  of  us  would  care  to  remain  perma- 
nently even  at  one  hundred  below  zero,"  Barclay  re- 
turned, promptly.  "  I  have  read  the  same  scientific 
article,  you  see." 

Now,  too,  that  Mrs.  Varemberg  had  reached  this 
new  position,  it  was  shown  almost  immediately  how 
baseless  and  fantastic  the  one  she  abandoned  had 
been. 

Barclay  soon  came,  in  the  course  of  talk,  to  the 
case  of  William  Alfsen.  He  told  her  of  his  desire  to 
get  him  a  place  on  the  revenue  cutter. 

"Why  do  you  not  ask  Lieutenant  Gregg?  "  she 
inquired. 

"  My  hated  rival  ?  No,  indeed  ;  that  would  never 
do." 

"  You  and  Lieutenant  Gregg  rivals  ?  And  on 
what  subject  ?  " 

"  It  seems  to  have  been  supposed  to  be  for  the  fa- 
vor of  the  fascinating  Justine  DeBow." 

"  How  interesting  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Varemberg, 
but  her  countenance  fell,  in  spite  of  herself.  It 
brightened  again  remarkably,  however,  when  she 
heard  from  him  a  full  account  of  this  little  episode. 


198  TUK   GOLltEX  JUSTICE. 

"  To  show  that  I  have  not  the  least  design  in  the 
world  against  his  peace  of  mind,"  went  on  Barclay, 
"  I  have  let  his  sweetheart,  with  society  in  general, 
perhaps  somewhat  brusquely  alone.  Still,  there  may 
be  a  lurking  acrimony  on  his  part,  and  I  am  not  the 
one  to  beg  him  to  do  anybody  favors." 

"And  there  was  really  nothing  in  it?  What  with 
your  eye  for  good  looks  and  your  interest  in  situ- 
ations out  of  the  common,  how  could  one  tell  that 
your  intentions  were  not  serious?" 

"  Was  it  likely  ?  "  he  responded  :  "  I  am  devoted 
to  —  to  —  eternal  celibacy,  like  the  Rev.  Edward 
Brockston." 

"  Then,  let  me  take  charge  of  the  application  in 
Alfsea's  favor,"  she  suggested  with  alacrity.  "  I  will 
speak  to  Lieutenant  Gregg  about  it  at  the  first  oppor- 
tunity. Perhaps  he  will  do  what  you  want,  on  my 
recommendation." 

Upon  this  a  new-comer  entered,  —  no  less  a  per- 
son than  Schwartzmann,  the  designer  of  the  Golden 
Justice,  who  had  come  home  for  a  visit,  after  a  long 
absence  in  Europe.  There  was  an  exhibition  of  his 
works  at  present,  at  Fogle&  Stein's,  the  leading  mu- 
sic and  stationery  store  of  the  place.  Schwartzmann 
showed  something  of  his  profession  in  his  looks.  He 
had  a  high,  narrow  forehead,  bushy  brows,  and 
meagre,  bristling  beard  ;  his  clothes  were  openly  of 
the  ready-made  sort,  and  he  wore  them  carelessly. 
There  was  a  trace  in  his  manners  of  the  rudeness  of 
the  lower  stratum  from  which  he  had  sprung,  yet  this 
was  far  more  than  balanced  by  the  refinement  of  his 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  199 

ideas,  helped  by  familiar  association  with  refined  peo- 
ple. He  was  a  bright,  intelligent  man,  with  the  as- 
sured briskness  and  confidence  of  a  successful  one. 
He  was  very  buoyant  and  gay  in  his  talk  about  mat- 
ters of  art,  his  own  life  abroad.  Barclay,  on  going 
away,  left  him  there. 

Lieutenant  Gregg  came  in,  later  in  the  day,  and 
Mrs.  Varemberg  approached  him  on  the  subject  of 
which  she  had  assumed  charge.  He  promised  it,  in 
fact,  his  most  favorable  consideration. 

A  brief  period,  of  a  new  sort,  now  began  for  our 
couple.  David  Lane  no  longer  opposed ;  they  had 
laid  at  rest  their  scruples  of  conscience,  persuading 
themselves  by  one  sophistical  argument  or  another  of 
the  rectitude  of  their  intentions  ;  there  seemed  never 
to  have  been  a  better  understanding  between  them, 
—  never  a  calmer,  more  satisfying,  more  thorough 
friendship,  and  friendship  alone. 

They  planned  together  new  devices  for  the  factory. 
Mrs.  Varemberg  manifested  a  keen  desire  to  be  made 
of  use,  a  touching  eagerness  to  put  herself  under  di- 
rection, that  she  might  be  utilized  for  any  worthy  end. 
On  one  occasion  she  brought  down  a  collection  of 
valuable  trinkets  she  had.  Barclay  facetiously  dubbed 
these  the  Crown  Jewels,  as  if  she  were  some  beauti- 
ful and  hapless  princess  in  exile  ;  and  he  sat  on  an 
ottoman  at  her  feet,  while  she  handed  out  to  him  in 
turn  these  trophies  of  her  days  of  earlier  youth,  and 
of  hope  and  happiness  at  a  brilliant  foreign  court. 
Again,  they  joined  the  sleigh-riders  on  Grand  Ave- 
nue. Barclay  wore  a  seal-skin  cap,  pulled  low  down 


200  TIIE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

aver  his  ears ;  his  companion,  well  wrapped  in  furs, 
with  a  bird's  wing  standing  straight  up  in  her  hat, 
sometimes  held  her  muff  before  her  face,  roseate  from 
the  tingle  of  the  keen  air.  They  went  slowly  up  the 
right  hand  of  the  broad  avenue,  and  then  came  flying 
down  the  left  at  headlong  speed,  in  company  with 
others,  as  many  as  four  abreast,  while  clods  of  snow 
spurned  gayly  backward  from  the  heels  of  their 
horses. 

Mrs.  Varemberg  was  a  person  of  changeable  moods, 
and  by  no  means  to  be  depended  upon  for  unvarying 
uniformity.  In  her  present  contentment  at  the  un- 
wonted appreciation  and  companionship  she  enjoyed, 
she  sometimes  surprised  Barclay  by  an  exhibition  of 
a  child-like  amenability  to  his  influence,  —  an  almost 
Griselda-like  meekness.  It  was  a  pathetic  testimony 
to  her  hard  usage  to  the  chilling  rebuffs  with  which 
her  naturally  affectionate  nature  had  been  met.  It 
afforded,  too,  a  glimpse  into  that  mysterious  trait  of 
feminine  character  which  finds  it  a  sort  of  luxury  to 
be  dominated  over,  and  even  to  be  thwarted,  by  one 
it  loves.  She  would  express,  after  some  simple  oc- 
casion, —  perhaps  his  merely  having  dined  with  them 
en  famille,  in  the  most  uneventful  way,  —  a  pleasure 
out  of  all  proportion  to  the  event. 

"  But  why  ?  but  how  ?  "  once  queried  Barclay,  puz- 
zled. "  Nothing  remarkable  happened." 

"  It  is  not  necessary  for  remarkable  things  to  hap- 
pen. I  have  not  been  maltreated,  I  have  not  been 
beaten  ;  that  is  all." 

After  some  random  critical   remarks  of  his,  in  a 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  201 

gay  discussion  on  furnishing,  he  was  astonished,  on 
his  next  visit,  to  find  the  position  of  some  important 
articles,  a  leading  picture,  and  even  the  arrangement 
of  an  entire  room  quite  altered. 

"  I  shall  be  afraid  to  open  my  mouth  next,"  he 
protested,  in  whimsical  expostulation.  "  What  right 
have  I  to  interfere  with  your  surroundings,  or  put  you 
to  any  trouble  whatever  ?  " 

"  I  like  to  please  you  "  she  said  ;  and  there  was  a 
thorough-going  completeness  in  this  abject  submis- 
sion and  a  cooing  gentleness  in  the  tones  of  her  voice 
that  made  his  heart  beat  high  with  a  mysterious  joy 
and  trouble.  What  might  not  these  peculiar  marks 
of  favor  be  construed  to  mean  ? 

"  Perhaps  you  would  enjoy  being  beaten,  after 
all  ?  "  he  said. 

"  Perhaps  I  would,"  she  replied  sweetly. 

But  this  mood  was  as  brief  as  it  was  phenomenal ; 
however  she  may  have  still  adhered  to  it  in  spirit,  it 
was  far  too  tame  to  comport  with  such  self-assertion 
and  charming  bold  caprice  as  were  naturally  hers. 

In  their  talk  Mrs.  Varemberg  was  much  the  more 
animated,  and  contributed  the  greater  share  of  it. 

"  It  is  a  dangerous  trait  in  you,"  she  would  say  to 
him,  "  that  you  are  so  good  a  listener." 

But  when  her  spirits  were  down,  she  had  her  si- 
lent moods,  also.  She  was  known  to  fade  away  so 
completely  into  the  region  of  her  own  griefs  and 
fancies  that  it  was  impossible  to  recall  her  from  it, 
and  her  friend  could  only  withdraw,  and  leave  her  to 
the  restorative  influence  of  time.  Sometimes,  under 


202  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

less  depression  than  this,  she  would  try  to  have  him 
talk  uninterruptedly  —  which  was  a  difficult  thing 
for  him  to  do  —  for  her  distraction.  One  day  she 
insisted,  in  such  fashion,  with  a  ray  of  humor  in  it, 
that  he  should  tell  her  some  long  story  from  his 
travels,  to  relieve  her  ennui. 

"  But  you  have  heard  all  about  my  travels  already ; 
I  can  think  of  nothing  further,"  he  demurred.  "  And 
you  yourself  are  quite  capable  of  talking  to-day." 

"  Once  when  I  was  in  the  Sandwich  Islands,"  she 
threw  out,  as  if  quoting  in  advance  the  opening  sen- 
tence of  his  narrative. 

"But  I  tell  you"  — 

"  Once  when  I  was  in  the  Sandwich  Islands,"  she 
persisted  inexorably. 

"  Have  you  any  particular  reason  for  selecting  the 
Sandwich  Islands  ?  "  he  asked,  struck  by  a  startling 
recollection. 

"  I  select  them  quite  at  random,  but  that  is  no 
reason  why" — she  answered  with  an  imitation  of 
capricious  tyranny. 

"  Then,  by  heaven  ! "  cried  Barclay  excitedly, 
"  once  when  I  was  in  the  Sandwich  Islands  I  saw 
your  husband  there.  It  was  Varemberg,  as  sure  as 
I  'm  alive.  It  must  have  been.  I  know  it  was." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  demanded  his  auditor, 
aghast.  She  had  no  trace  of  ennui,  either  real  or 
pretended,  now. 

"  It  all  comes  back  to  me.  I  did  not  know  at  the 
time  he  was  in  that  part  of  the  world,  or  even  that 
there  was  any  rupture  between  you.  I  do  not  know 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  203 

why  I  did  not  think  of  this  the  other  day,  when  you 
told  me  of  his  having  been  heard  of  in  the  South 
Seas." 

"  Tell  me  all  that  you  saw  and  know." 

"  I  went  into  a  court,  to  see  something  of  the  ad- 
ministration of  justice  in  those  latitudes.  I  observed 
—  it  was  in  the  prisoner's  dock  —  a  man  bearing  a 
singular  resemblance  to  Varemberg." 

"  Oh !  could  it  have  been  ?  Did  you  speak  to 
him  ?  Did  you  identify  him  ?  " 

"  Not  by  name,  certainly.  I  asked  the  by-standers 
about  him  and  his  case.  They  returned  a  different 
name,  one  I  had  never  heard  of.  I  thought  it  but 
one  of  those  coincidences  that  are  so  common.  I 
sometimes  think  we  are  all  cut  out  only  upon  a 
dozen  patterns,  or  so,  and  everywhere  you  go  you 
find  people  who  closely  resemble  those  you  have  left 
behind.  But  now  all  hangs  together.  The  offense 
for  which  he  was  on  trial  exactly  corresponds  with 
what  you  have  told  me  of  his  violent  character.  And 
then,  certain  peculiarities  of  his  manner,  his  sharp 
glance,  —  yes,  I  could  not  have  been  mistaken;  it 
was  he." 

"  What  had  he  done  ? "  asked  the  unfortunate 
wife,  trembling. 

"  He  was  accused  of  killing  one  of  the  coolies  who 
had  worked  for  him  on  a  sugar  plantation." 

"  And  was  he  —  convicted  ?  " 

"  No,  I  afterwards  heard  he  was  not.  One  poor 
cooly  was  not  of  much  consequence,  after  all ;  and  the 
defense  was  mutiny  and  self-preservation,  —  though 


L'<>4  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

it  was  alleged,  on  the  other  hand,  that  the  disturl>- 
ance  or  uprising  was  due  to  intolerable  cruelty  on  the 
part  of  the  master." 

"  How  long  ago  was  all  this  ?  " 

"Just  before  I  left  for  San  Francisco;  a  bare  six 
weeks,  say,  before  my  arrival  here." 

Mrs.  Varemberg  gave  a  convulsive  shudder. 

"  Ah,"  she  said,  "  if  he  was  so  near,  it  was  but  a 
step  for  him  to  San  Francisco,  and  what  is  to  pre- 
vent his  coming  here  ?  " 

"  He  would  never  dare  !  "  and  Barclay  started  to 
his  feet,  his  eye  blazing  indignation.  "  No,  it  is  im- 
possible." 

He  had  not  thought  of  it  in  that  light.  He  saw 
that  his  story  had  alarmed  her.  Distressed  at  her 
agitation,  he  endeavored  to  repair  the  effects  of  what 
he  deemed  his  imprudence.  His  surprise  at  the 
strange  coincidence  had  inadvertently  betrayed  him 
into  it.  He  pretended  that  he  might,  after  all,  have 
been  mistaken.  But  it  was  too  late.  The  story  had 
made  a  deep  impression  on  its  hearer.  It  accented 
also  the  bondage,  sometimes  half  forgotten,  that  held 
her,  and  the  irreparable  distance  fixed  between  her 
and  others.  It  was  a  warning  of  personal  danger  to 
Barclay,  too,  like  the  discovery  by  Crusoe  of  the  first 
foot-print  on  the  sands,  and,  as  with  Crusoe's  foot- 
print, it  was  long  before  uneasiness  from  this  source 
was  allayed. 

Even  with  the  utmost  allowance  for  mental  blind- 
ness and  for  good  intentions,  it  is  evident  that  such 
a  situation  as  that  between  the  pair  could  not  last. 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  205 

The  days  went  by,  and  their  awakening  from  their 
self-imposed  delusion  rapidly  approached. 

Barclay  made  many  a  furtive  study  of  the  looks  of 
his  companion,  and,  though  she  could  certainly  not 
have  been  much  better,  was  surprised  to  find  himself 
thinking  of  her  but  little  as  an  invalid.  There  were 
certain  aspects  of  her  appearance  —  now  it  was  a 
poise  of  the  head,  now  the  curves  of  her  eyebrows 
and  lids  —  which  he  would  say  to  himself,  when 
alone,  were  too  perfect  to  be  real ;  but  on  going  back 
to  see  them  again  he  would  find,  to  his  astonishment, 
that  the  fact  far  surpassed  his  recollection.  He  had 
some  singular  moments,  in  looking  at  her,  when  she 
seemed  to  swim  before  him  in  a  sort  of  luminous 
haze.  It  had  a  magnetic  quality  ;  it  emanated  from 
her  eyes,  and  was  full  of  the  sweetness  of  her  glance 
and  her  smile,  and  he  could  not  see  her  quite  clearly. 
He  would  draw  forth  some  small  treasures,  of  her 
personal  belonging,  that  he  possessed,  and  sit  in 
reverie  or  rapture  before  them,  quite  in  the  usual 
lover-like  way.  These  were  a  glove,  a  bit  of  lace 
from  her  gown,  a  card  on  which  she  had  scribbled 
some  words,  a  faded  rose,  —  the  common  trumpery 
paraphernalia. 

What!  to  reverence  such  treasures,  and  yet  re- 
main only  a  friend? 

"  Yes,"  he  made  answer,  in  specious  sophistry ; 
"  all  such  homage  need  not  be  given  over  to  the 
lover  alone.  The  warm  friend,  too,  may  start  at  the 
opening  door,  tremble  at  seeing  a  dear  presence  afar, 
watch  for  a  window  light,  turn  pale  and  red  at  the 


206  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

receipt  of  a  letter,  at  the  little  touch  of  a  hand,  or 
even  at  the  tones  of  a  voice." 

The  thoughts  of  Mrs.  Varemberg,  on  the  other 
hand,  were  forever  hovering  about  Barclay.  His 
interests  were  almost  the  only  ones  that  occupied 
her ;  he  filled  her  long  musings  by  day,  her  dreams 
at  night.  It  was  his  very  merits  that  constituted  his 
baneful  influence ;  it  was  not  because  he  was  bad, 
but  because  he  was  good,  that  he  was  secretly  draw- 
ing her  away  from  allegiance  to  her  most  firmly  set- 
tled convictions.  She  was  forever  making  idle  con- 
trasts. 

"  Why  could  it  not  have  been  ?  "  she  said,  bemoan- 
ing her  fate.  "  With  him,  I  should  have  had  a  ca- 
reer ;  I  should  have  been  a  useful  being  in  the  world, 
and  not  the  poor,  forlorn  creature  I  am." 

Through  all  this  she  kept  an  inexorable  watch 
upon  her  tongue ;  she  meant  to  let  fall  no  word  that 
might  betray  her  state  of  feeling.  One  afternoon  in 
the  late  winter,  when  there  was  a  new  premonition 
of  snow  in  the  soft,  calm  air,  some  errand  took  her 
to  the  South  Side  of  the  town.  She  passed  Barclay's 
factory  at  a  distance,  on  the  way,  and  she  said  to 
herself  that  she  felt  a  certain  joy  to  be  even  so  near 
to  him  as  that,  though  she  did  not  see  him.  A  deft 
artistic  hand  might  have  drawn  the  Polish  settle- 
ment, as  it  appeared  to  her  in  its  winter  dress,  in  a 
few  lines  and  washes  of  gray  and  sepia,  on  a  bit  of 
white  paper.  At  the  church,  with  its  twin  towers 
and  domes  of  shining  tin,  a  festival  was  evidently 
being  made  ready  for  the  ensuing  Sunday:  a  large 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  207 

quantity  of  carpets,  painted  images,  and  tall  vases 
with  paper  flowers  were  being  conveyed  in ;  the  en- 
trance doors  were  wide  open,  and  the  sexton  and  a 
number  of  assistants  were  busy  about  the  altar.  Mrs. 
Varemberg  recollected  that  this  church  had  been 
recommended  by  Barclay  as  one  of  the  minor  curios- 
ities discovered  in  his  search  for  the  unusual ;  and 
the  notion  took  her,  in  passing,  to  enter  it.  Silken 
banners  of  benevolent  societies  were  planted  by  the 
chancel  rail,  and  on  the  walls  were  a  few  eikons,  or 
sacred  pictures,  the  face  and  hands  sunk  into  a  gilded 
ground,  while  the  rest  was  painted  on  the  surface,  — 
nothing  of  any  real  importance,  but  only  interesting 
because  they  had  interested  him.  Fatigued,  this  un- 
usual visitor  sat  down  in  one  of  the  front  pews  ;  pres- 
ently she  half  knelt,  and  remained  a  considerable 
time  with  her  face  buried  in  her  hands.  She  was 
aroused  by  finding  Paul  Barclay  standing  beside  her. 

"  I  was  driving  by,"  he  said,  "  and  could  not  very 
well  avoid  recognizing  your  sleigh,  with  your  man 
waiting  on  the  box,  so  I  came  in  on  the  chance  of . 
finding  you.     Have  you  gone  over  to  the  Polish  form 
of  worship  ?  " 

"  Do  not  taunt  me  with  my  unreasonableness ;  if 
you  once  begin,  you  will  never  stop.  I  do  not  know 
but  I  have  been  trying  to  pray." 

"  St.  Jude's  would  have  been  nearer  for  the  pur- 
pose, and  it  is  rather  more  affected  by  your  friends." 

"  Any  temple  is  good  enough  for  a  petition  that 
will  not  and  probably  ought  not  to  be  granted." 

"  Will  you  tell  me  what  you  have  prayed  about  ?  " 


'JOS  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

"  Oh,  general  wretchedness,"  she  answered,  at  first 
evasively;  then,  looking  at  him  directly,  and  as  if 
under  an  emotion  she  could  not  control,  "  For  simple, 
sweet  earthly  happiness.  Eternity  is  too,  too  long  to 
wait  for.  But  it  cannot  be  granted,  and  it  is  wicked 
even  to  ask  for  it." 

"  Poor  child  !  "  he  murmured  under  his  breath.  An 
absorbing  tenderness  welled  up  in  his  heart ;  then,  in 
a  louder  tone,  full  of  reassurance,  "  Patience  ;  all  must 
yet  come  right." 

"  No  ;  all  will  come  right  for  others,  but  not  for 
me,"  she  responded,  desperately. 

Barclay  was  on  the  eve  of  some  great  outburst 
In  another  moment  he  would  have  given  expression 
to  the  feelings  with  which  his  whole  being  had  long 
been  pervaded.  But  his  companion  herself  first  re- 
covered her  lost  control.  She  stepped  lightly  along 
the  aisle,  and  threw  her  wraps  around  her,  prepara- 
tory to  going  forth  into  the  colder  air.  She  hastily 
read  aloud  a  placard,  in  amusing  English,  affixed  to 
the  wall  of  the  vestibule. 

"  No  person  who  has  not  a  pew  (seat),"  it  said,  "is 
not  allowed  to  enter  the  same,  for  we  have  not  got 
that  church  for  nothing.  By  so  doing  they  will  oblige 
every  holder  of  a  pew,  as  it  would  deprive  them  of 
their  respective  place." 

When  Barclay  would  have  recommenced  at  the 
serious  point  where  they  had  left  off,  a  second  diver- 
sion was  created  by  William  Alfsen,  who  caught  sight 
of  them  in  the  portal,  and  came  running  up  the  steps 
to  thank  them  gratefully  for  their  efficacious  service 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  209 

in  securing  him  the  coveted  place  on  the  revenue  cut- 
ter. He  had  been  inducted  into  his  new  duties,  it 
appeared,  a  week  before,  but  this  was  the  first  op- 
portunity he  had  had  to  get  off  long  enough  to  see 
anybody.  He  had  been  intending,  he  said,  to  call  on 
them  both. 

"  And  now,  I  suppose,"  said  Barclay,  as  the  sailor 
was  withdrawing,  "you  can  marry  Stanislava?" 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,"  replied  Alfsen,  scratch- 
ing his  head  dubiously.  "  The  old  man,  he  don't  let 
up  on  us  yet ;  and  Stanislava,  she  's  one  o'  them  kind 
what  don't  make  no  trouble  in  her  family.  I  guess 
we  got  to  wait  a  while  yet." 

This  over,  Mrs.  Varemberg  drove  away  home- 
ward. The  lighter  note  had  opportunely  been  struck, 
and  a  most  dangerous  moment  averted. 

David  Lane  could  hardly  fail  to  note,  of  late,  that 
his  daughter  was  more  disturbed  in  mind  than  usual, 
even  for  her.  She  was  growing  paler  and  thinner. 
He  thought  good  to  let  fall  a  suggestion  to  the  Rev. 
Edward  Brockston  that  the  latter  should  take  occasion 
to  talk  with  her,  and  help  bring  her  to  a  more  recon- 
ciled feeling  with  existence.  This  man  of  wise  coun- 
sel did  so  to  the  best  extent  he  could.  He  showed 
her  yet  further,  in  the  usual  way,  that  this  life  is  to 
be  regarded  as  of  no  real  importance  in  itself,  but  is 
only  a  preparation  for  another.  Perhaps  he  had 
some  shrewd  perception  of  how  the  land  lay,  for  he 
was  not  an  obtuse  person,  and  so  he  managed  to  touch 
delicately,  too,  upon  the  church  doctrine  of  divorce. 


210  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

He  aimed  to  strengthen  her  belief  in  the  binding  force 
and  obligation  of  the  marriage  contract  by  as  cogent 
words  as  possible.  "  The  house  that  God  has  not 
built,"  he  said,  concluding  this  topic,  "  is  not  built 
at  all." 

A  public  entertainment  was  to  be  given,  known  as 
a  Peasants'  Carnival.  He  urged  her  to  take  part  in 
this,  both  to  aid  the  charitable  object  for  which  it  was 
intended,  and  also  as  a  distraction  from  the  perhaps 
rather  morbid  state  of  mind  into  which  she  was  al- 
lowing herself  to  drift.  Contrary  to  what  might 
have  been  expected  of  her  and  to  her  usual  practice, 
she  consented  to  do  so.  She  was  not  strong  enough 
to  enlist  herself  in  the  active  work  of  the  carnival 
proper,  but  it  was  finally  arranged  that  she  should 
accept.^  character  in  some  tableaux vivantes  projected 
in  connection  with  it,  a  role  in  which  her  noble  and 
distinguished  bearing  could  be  well  turned  to  account. 

The  sculptor  Schwartzmann  first  aided  some  of  the 
members  individually,  then  allowed  himself  to  be  im- 
pressed into  the  service  as  general  manager  of  the 
whole.  Barclay  found  him  advising  Mrs.  Varem- 
berg  about  her  costume.  He  saw  her  working  at  a 
profusion  of  soft  tissues  and  stuffs  of  cloth  of  gold. 
One  evening,  on  which  he  endeavored  to  draw  from 
her  what  her  character  was  to  be,  he  chanced  to  be 
so  posted  that  he  could  see  her  not  only  directly  in 
front,  but  also  reflected  sidewise  in  one  of  the  pier- 
glasses  of  the  drawing-room.  The  mirror  duplicated 
all  the  shining  stuffs,  just  as  it  duplicated  her  grace- 
fully bent,  slender  figure.  She  was  clad  in  a  soft 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  211 

black  silk,  with  a  camel' s-hair  scarf  about  her  shoul- 
ders. As  he  gazed,  his  fancy  was  comparing  her  to 
some  mediaeval  chatelaine,  some  Lady  of  Shalott, 
weaving  a  fabric  of  intertwisted  threads  of  fate.  The 
identity  of  the  characters  was  not  to  be  disclosed, 
however,  till  the  performance  itself,  and  Barclay,  in 
spite  of  his  humorous  guesses,  was  left  in  the  dark, 
like  the  others. 

On  the  opening  of  the  carnival,  the  interior  of  the 
Academy  of  Music  was  found  filled  with  small,  gayly 
decorated  booths,  arranged  around  the  outer  circum- 
ference of  the  auditorium,  which  was  floored  over. 
Swiss  chalets  stood  alongside  Norwegian  cottages,  of 
varnished  logs,  and  German  foresters'  huts.  There 
was  an  old  English  inn,  with  pots  of  roses  on  the 
window  ledges  and  a  stout  host  in  the  vine-clad  porch. 
There  were  a  Spanish  posada,  and  a  chic  auberge 
taken  bodily  from  a  French  opera  bouffe. 

Paul  Barclay,  on  his  arrival,  found  himself  in  an 
atmosphere  thick  with  smiles,  bows,  and  compli- 
ments, the  choice  perfume  of  civilization.  The  eye 
was  greeted  by  pyramids  of  fantastic  objects  for  sale, 
baskets  and  arches  of  exotic  flowers,  and  glitter  of 
china  and  silver,  brought  out  to  serve  dainty  refresh- 
ments upon.  There  were  belles  in  the  ordinary  cos- 
tume of  society :  some  of  the  demure,  high-necked 
sort,  and  other  sirens  in  low  dresses,  making  a  fasci- 
nating display  of  neck  and  arms  through  their  gauzes. 
All  the  pretty,  frail  peasants,  in  their  coquettish  caps 
and  aprons,  would  have  evoked  only  laughing  scorn 
from  the  buxom  originals  in  the  mother  country,  but 


212  TEE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

they  were  none  the  less  fair  to  see  for  that.  The 
masculine  Tyroleans,  Troubadours,  and  Highlanders, 
young  business  men  of  Keewaydin,  concealed  with 
but  little  success  their  daily  indentification  with  the 
affairs  of  East  and  "West  Water  streets. 

Barclay  had  made  the  rounds  to  a  certain  extent, 
and  was  buying  some  trifle  of  a  pretty  girl,  who  rep- 
resented the  Belle  Chocolatiere  of  the  Dresden  Gal- 
lery, when  he  suddenly  found  himself  next  to  Justine 
DeBow.  She  wore  a  quaint  old  embroidered  white 
satin  wedding-dress,  handed  down  from  some  ances- 
tor on  her  father's  side,  with  powder  and  patches  to 
match.  She  looked  handsomer  than  ever  before,  but 
there  was  a  cloud  of  trouble  on  her  brow.  After  re- 
ceiving her  greeting,  Barclay  would  have  passed  on 
from  her,  also,  with  some  few  of  the  usual  polite 
forms,  but  she  said  to  him  in  a  low  tone  :  — 

"  Will  you  not  take  me  for  a  short  walk  ?  There 
was  something  I  wanted  to  say  to  you." 

He  offered  her  his  arm,  and  they  strolled  about  a 
little,  and  then  withdrew  to  a  point  near  the  stage, 
somewhat  remote  from  observation,  where  there  was 
a  bower,  In  which  were  constructed  mossy  green 
banks  of  baize.  Miss  DeBow  made  as  if  she  would 
have  entered  this  bower,  but  he  did  not  follow  her 
lead.  The  young  woman  then  stood  still,  faced 
him,  and,  first  drawing  a  long,  gasping  breath,  de- 
manded :  — 

"Is  it  on  account  of  my  mother — on  account  of 
what  you  —  you  heard  that  evening,  that  you  no 
longer  wish  to  associate  with  me  ?  " 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  213 

"  Not  associate  —  Could  you  think  me  capable  of 
it  ? "  he  protested,  at  first  not  comprehending  her 
meaning,  and  then  shocked  and  pained  both  for  her 
and  himself. 

"  Then  why  have  you  so  changed  ?  "  she  exclaimed. 
"  Why  are  you  so  cruel  to  me  ?  Why  do  you  stay 
away  ?  " 

This  was  a  case  requiring  far  more  delicacy  of 
treatment  and  tender  consideration  than  that  of  Mrs. 
Rycraft.  In  brief,  she  made  love  to  him  outright. 
She  shed  tears,  and  showed  all  the  signs  of  a  genuine 
emotion.  The  roles  of  the  sexes  are,  on  some  rare 
occasions,  thus  reversed.  All  this  might,  perhaps, 
have  been  only  a  deliberate  plan,  of  an  unmaidenly 
sort,  a  last  throw,  on  the  chance  of  winning  him ;  or 
it  might  have  been  the  spontaneous  outburst  of  an 
ill-regulated  nature,  yielding  to  a  spell  its  own  imagi- 
nation had  woven. 

"  Oh,  I  love  you !  I  want  you  to  take  me  for 
yours  ! "  she  said  to  him  passionately.  "  You  are  so 
different  from  all  the  others  I  have  ever  known.  I 
want  to  be  with  you  always." 

Paul  Barclay  was  surprised  indeed  to  find  how 
callous  he  could  remain  to  even  such  an  appeal,  how 
efficacious  was  the  panoply  by  which  he  was  pro- 
tected. 

"  I  must  not  let  you  talk  so.  You  are  not  quite 
yourself  in  this,"  he  answered  her,  gently.  "  You 
will  smile  at  your  own  folly,  I  am  sure,  when  you 
look  back  upon  it,  after  a  little  time." 

"  At  least  you  will  not  betray  me,"  she  asked, 


214  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

when  she  was  at  last  convinced  that  her  effort  was  of 
no  avail. 

"  You  have  given  me  a  great  proof  of  your  confi- 
dence," he  said,  "  and  it  shall  be  most  sacredly  re- 
spected." 

A  little  bell  rang  sharply :  all  eyes  were  turned 
towards  the  stage  ;  the  coquettish  peasants  left  their 
booths,  and  stood  forward,  taking  attitudes  of  uncon- 
scious grace.  The  little  bell  rang  again,  and  the  cur- 
tain went  slowly  up  on  the  first  of  the  tableaux. 
"What  a  sight  it  was  on  the  stage  that  met  the  aston- 
ished eyes  of  Barclay ! 

A  vivid  lime-light  streamed  full  upon  the  figure  of 
the  Golden  Justice.  It  was  Mrs.  Varemberg,  clad 
in  severe,  straight-falling  draperies  of  cloth  of  gold. 
On  her  head  was  a  golden  helmet,  by  her  side  a  long, 
straight-hiked  golden  sword,  and  in  her  hands  a  pair 
of  golden  scales.  She  was  raised  upon  a  pedestal 
resembling  that  to  which  the  statue  was  actually  at- 
tached, and  she  stood  against  a  deep  Hue  ground, 
representing  the  sky.  Her  hair  and  eyes  and  the 
smooth  flesh  of  face  and  hands  mingled  a  warm  hu- 
man element  with  the  imitation  of  metal.  She  re- 
called one  of  the  famous  chryselephantine  statues,  of 
ivory,  ebony,  gems,  and  gold.  It  was  of  such  pre- 
cious materials,  instead  of  the  bare,  cold  marble,  that 
the  sculptors  of  antiquity  delighted  to  fashion  their 
choicest  works. 

A  murmur  of  surprise,  increasing  to  admiration, 
ran  around  the  hall.  "  How  striking,  how  original !  " 
was  the  comment.  "  Who  would  have  thought  that 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  215 

the  image  from  our  own  city  ball,  apparently  so  void 
of  romance,  could  be  made  to  figure  in  sucb  a  way?" 
The  Golden  Justice  was  a  greater  success  than  all 
the  Cleopatras,  Dorotheas,  and  Priscillas  of  the  occa- 
sion. It  was  voted  a  triumph  of  ingenuity  on  the 
part  of.  both  Schwartzmann  and  the  eminent  lady 
who  carried  out  the  conception  they  had  planned  to- 
gether, and  it  gave  to  Mrs.  Varemberg  a  new  acces- 
sion of  prestige. 

The  apparition  stood  immovable,  an  epitome  of 
serene  majesty  and  loveliness.  It  was  gloriously 
bright,  like  the  seraph  Uriel,  or  Gabriel,  chief  of  the 
angel  guards  of  heaven.  Barclay  gazed,  breathless, 
as  if-  any  motion  of  his  might  cause  it  to  vanish  be- 
fore its  time.  The  young  girl  beside  him  saw  the 
rapture  in  his  glance,  and  knew  at  last  that  all  was 
hopeless  for  her,  and  why  it  was. 

"  It  is  she,"  she  said,  desperately.  "  Ah,  she  does 
well  to  use  her  arts  of  a  woman  of  the  world  against 
a  poor  girl !  " 

"  Hush  !  "  said  Barclay  ;  "  you  must  not  speak 
against  her.  She  is  the,  best,  the  dearest,  being  in 
the  world." 

At  the  same  time  the  statue  seemed  to  direct  at 
him,  where  he  stood  in  his  ill-assorted  companion- 
ship, a  glance  as  of  a  certain  reproach.  He  broke 
away,  left  the  hall  almost  fiercely,  and  went  to  allay 
his  turbulent  agitation  in  the  little  park  by  the  lake 
shore,  which  had  become  a  favorite  resort  with  him. 
His  moment  of  thorough  awakening  had  come.  He 
knew,  without  a  shadow  of  disguise,  that  the  fiction 


216  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

of  a  disinterested  friendship  he  had  been  so  long 
cherishing  was  an  utter  mockery.  He  knew  that  he 
was  as  wildly  in  love  with  Florence  Lane  as  ever  in 
the  maddest  moment  of  the  earlier  time.  And  there 
was  now  this  singular  thing  about  it  that,  whereas  in 
former  days  his  ideal  of  her  had  been  compounded 
of  blooming  health  and  strength,  and  had  been  made 
of  the  elements  of  a  schoolboy's  fancy  —  had  hardly 
been  of  flesh  and  blood  at  all,  but  of  sugar  and  spice, 
the  rose,  the  lily,  honey,  perfume,  alabaster,  coral,  and 
jade  —  now  his  tender  sympathy  and  love  embraced 
her  with  an  equal  ardor  in  all  her  human  weakness 
and  decay.  He  conceived  a  union  of  souls  and  es- 
sences, from  which  the  body  with  all  its  imperfec- 
tions might  be  eliminated  and  yet  his  affection  remain 
unchanged. 

The  discovery  caused  him  the  keenest  pain.  He 
did  not  want  to  admit  to  himself  that  it  was  so.  The 
situation  was  such  that  the  feeling  ought  not  to  be 
disclosed.  Should  he  conceal  it  and  suffer  in  silence  ? 
To  suffer  heroically  was  part  of  a  Spartan  discipline 
he  had  marked  out  for  himself,  but  he  knew  that 
in  fact  his  state  of  mind  could  not  be  hidden.  He 
groaned  aloud  as  he  paced  the  esplanade  in  the 
darkness. 

"  Is  this  to  be  the  end  ?  "  he  asked.  "Am  I  to  put 
myself  in  antagonism  with  all  those  social  laws  which 
it  should  have  been  my  part  rather  to  strengthen 
and  enforce  ?  Am  I  to  join  the  wretched  band  of 
strugglers  with  illicit  passion  ?  No ;  one  thing  a  man 
can  save  when  all  else  is  lost,  —  his  honor.  I  must 
go  away  from  here,  and  never  return." 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  217 

That  same  night,  Mrs.  Varemberg,  fatigued  and 
depressed  by  the  unusual  exertion  she  had  under- 
gone, drove  home  as  soon  as  her  own  part  was  over. 
On  alighting  she  inquired  for  her  father,  and  learned 
that  he  was  then  at  home,  and  in  his  library.  He 
had  not  gone  to  the  carnival,  as  he  had  intended, 
having  been  detained,  at  the  last  moment.  The  se- 
cret had  been  kept  from  him  as  well  as  the  others, 
and  his  daughter  wished  now  that  he  should  see  her 
in  full  paraphernalia  before  it  should  be  permanently 
laid  aside.  She  threw  a  veil  of  light  tissue,  there- 
fore, over  her  features,  which  both  added  to  the  stat- 
uesque effect  and  concealed  her  identity,  and  went 
to  present  herself  before  him  in  the  library.  The 
door  was  ajar.  She  glided  in. 

David  Lane  looked  up  from  his  writing,  and  saw 
the  Golden  Justice  in  his  presence.  Whether  it  was 
the  apparition  itself,  as  something  really  uncanny, 
or  that  he  feared  he  was  becoming  a  prey  to  danger- 
ous hallucinations,  or  only  the  sudden  suggestion  of 
all  that  the  figure  contained  for  him,  his  heart  gave  a 
terrible  throb ;  he  become  very  white ;  he  staggered 
to  his  feet,  gasping,  and  leaned  on  a  corner  of  his 
desk  for  support. 

"  Why,  papa,  am  I  really  so  formidable  ? "  cried 
his  daughter  gayly.  She  had  reason  to  be  alarmed 
at  her  unlooked-for  success. 

"I  —  I  am  very  nervous,"  he  stammered,  abating 
the  rigid  fixity  of  his  attitude,  and  sinking  back  again 
into  his  seat.  "  You  should  have  given  me  a  little 
notice.  I  was  so  occupied  I  did  not  hear  you  come 
in." 


218  TUB   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

"  It  seems  to  me  I  make  almost  too  good  a  ghost. 
It  is  like  the  statue  of  the  commander  walking  in  to 
Don  Juan.  But  you  are  no  Don  Juan,  poor  papa." 

Of  all  possible  conceits  in  the  range  of  imagina- 
tion, who  could  have  foreseen  that  this  would  be 
chosen  to  torture  him  with  ?  Destiny,  he  said  to 
himself,  which  meant  to  destroy  him,  had  descended 
to  petty  tricks  of  detail,  to  a  malicious  ingenuity. 
It  was  playing  with  his  heart-strings  as  a  cat  with  a 
mouse. 

But  he  mustered  his  calmness  again.  He  began  to 
compliment  his  daughter  on  her  improved  appear- 
ance. He  said  he  thought  it  would  be  well  if  she 
would  often  take  part  in  some  such  affairs,  and  try  to 
see  a  little  more  of  the  social  world  than  she  was  in 
the  habit  of  doing.  Mrs.  Varemberg's  golden  helmet 
and  emblems  of  office  were  now  laid  aside  ;  her  hair 
flowed  freely  over  her  shoulders ;  she  extended  her- 
self in  an  arm-chair,  and  had  more  than  ever  the  as- 
pect of  some  seraph  of  the  bright  hosts  of  the  Para- 
dise Lost,  some  warrior  saint  of  Palma  Vecchio. 
She  spoke  of  her  usual  avocations,  of  her  ennui  and 
longing.  The  storm  must  have  been  long  in  gather- 
ing, but  it  now  broke  out  as  if  from  a  clear  sky. 

"  I  will  have  a  divorce  V  she  suddenly  cried.  "  I 
will  be  free.  I  can  stand  this  life  no  longer." 

"  Is  it  this  man,  this  Barclay,  who  is  at  the  bottom 
of  it  ?  "  demanded  her  father,  sternly. 

"  It  is  —  it  is  —  I  cannot  explain,"  she  responded, 
not  able  to  be  quite  ingenuous,  even  in  the  midst  of 
her  vehemence,  which  this  question  tended  to  abate. 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  219 

"  I  bear  a  uame  identified  with  all  that  is  hateful ;  is 
not  that  enough  ?  " 

"  And  you  will  abandon  your  most  cherished  con- 
victions ?  " 

"  Oh,  is  it  so  irreparable  f  Is  there  no  honorable 
relief  ?  Must  I  drink  the  cup  of  wretchedness  to  the 
very  dregs  ?  "  she  cried,  passionately.  "  You  do  not 
know  what  I  have  suffered.  If  it  had  been  only  pov- 
erty, how  gladly  I  would  have  shared  it  with  him ! 
If  it  had  been  only  sickness,  how  devotedly  I  would 
have  nursed  him !  I  had  such  a  thirst  for  affection. 
I  us'ed  to  go  sometimes  and  kiss  him  in  his  sleep, 
and  beg  his  forgiveness,  because  I  dared  not  ad- 
dress him  thus  when  awake,  —  though  it  was  not  I 
who  was  in  fault.  But  oh,  papa,  when  he  does  not 
want  me,  and  never  wanted  me  —  when  I  can  ben- 
efit neither  him  nor  myself  —  when  all  can  do  no 
good  "  — 

So  she  spoke,  standing  flushed  and  panting  before 
him  in  her  shining  garb.  David  Lane  was  aroused, 
never  to  be  mistaken  more,  from  the  false  security 
into  which  he  had  lulled  himself.  He  could  only 
murmur,  just  as  Barclay  had  done  before  him, — 

"  Try  to  be  patient,  dear !     All  will  yet  be  well." 

"Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Varemberg  humbly,  at  length, 
"  you  are  right.  I  hardly  know  what  I  am  saying. 
I  will  try  to  be  patient ;  I  must  be  patient." 


A   NAVAL    ENGAGEMENT. 

THE  position  of  Paul  Barclay  in  Keewaydin  thus 
seemed  untenable.  His  passion  for  Florence  Lane 
was  renewed  in  all  its  original  intensity.  In  sweep- 
ing away  the  sophistries  in  which  he  had  lately  im- 
mersed himself,  he  was  harshly  unjust  to  the  purity 
of  his  early  motives. 

"  She  alone  was  my  object  in  settling  here ! "  he 
exclaimed  fiercely.  "  My  pretense  of  a  regular  avo- 
cation has  been  but  the  most  wretched  piece  of  hy- 
pocrisy." 

At  his  factory  he  contemplated  his  men  in  their 
shops,  as  he  had  often  done  before,  but  now  with  a 
new  feeling.  He  contrasted  again  the  dingy  interior 
in  which  they  worked  with  the  parlors,  full  of  light 
and  color  and  rare  bibelots,  which  employers,  himself 
like  the  rest,  enjoyed  from  the  product  of  this  labor. 
But,  after  all,  he  reflected,  these  men  had  compensa- 
tions in  their  work.  They  took  a  pride  in  their  feats 
of  strength  and  skill.  They  did  not  mind  the  grime, 
nor  tread  gingerly  over  it,  but  they  we.re  prepared 
for  it  in  a  rough-and-ready  dress  it  could  not  spoil. 
What,  indeed,  in  the  last  analysis,  are  dirt  and  grime  ? 
They  are  but  particles  of  the  general  matter  of  which 
the  universe  is  made ;  at  the  very  worst,  but  one  of 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  221 

its  phases  of  transformation.  Under  the  microscope, 
the  ash-heap  and  even  the  gutter  are  as  full  of  crys- 
tals of  loveliness  as  the  snow.  As  he  looked  around, 
he  could  feel  that  he  had  benefited  in  a  small  way 
many  of  these  employees.  His  stay  there  had  not 
been  altogether  in  vain,  so  far  as  they  were  con- 
cerned. For  instance,  he  had  aided  old  Fahnenstock 
to  secure  the  long-coveted  cottage  and  bit  of  land  at 
Whitefish  Bay ;  he  had  established  the  ambitious 
too  hard-working  McClary  in  a  shop  of  his  own  ;  he 
had  seen  the  boy  Martin  Krieg  apprenticed  to  an 
architect,  and  making  an  excellent  beginning  in  that 
profession  ;  he  had  ameliorated  the  lot  and  somewhat 
brightened  the  views  even  of  the  saturnine  Hoolan, 
and  given  a  set  or  two  of  useful  books  to  Hassler, 
who  had  a  taste  for  reading,  —  and  so  the  story  went. 
Few  but  were  the  better  in  some  way  for  having 
known  him.  But  their  troubles  now  moved  him  less 
than  formerly ;  care  for  their  hardships  was  lost  in 
that  for  his  own,  which,  though  different  in  kind, 
seemed  not  less  in  degree.  He  found  himself  saying 
in  a  summarizing  way,  — 

"  It  is  not  the  special  situation  in  life  that  is  im- 
portant ;  it  is  the  character,  the  disposition,  of  the 
man.  To  every  lot  is  attached  its  pains,  as  well  as 
its  compensations,  and  it  may  well  be  that  the  pains 
of  the  higher  station  are  often  the  keenest." 

So  far  as  he  had  had  any  definite  intentions  to 
make  himself  an  authority  on  the  laboring  classes, 
and  to  enter  into  practical  philanthropy  in  that 
field,  —  in  his  despondency  he  doubted  if  he  had 


222  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

really  had  any  such  intentions,  —  they  might  at  some 
time  be  prosecuted  elsewhere. 

He  passed  several  days  of  mental  conflict  and  wa- 
vering, and  nights  of  broken  slumbers.  Then  he  ar- 
rived at  an  inflexible  resolve,  confirming  that  towards 
which  he  had  tended  at  first,  as  the  solution  of  the 
difficulty.  Heroic  resolutions  are  said  to  be  those 
which  are  preferred  in  love,  because  they  are  impos- 
sible of  fulfillment.  At  last  his  shilly-shallying  was 
at  an  end.  He  determined  to  see  no  more  of  Mrs. 
Varemberg,  to  withdraw  from  the  partnership  with 
Maxwell,  and  to  leave  Keewaydin  at  the  earliest  pos- 
sible moment.  Yes,  there  seemed  nothing  for  it  but 
that  he  must  go. 

Spi-ing  was  wont  to  be  slow  in  coming  to  Keeway- 
din, and  it  was  as  yet  only  the  beginning  of  March, 
but  there  was  a  spell  of  exceptionally  mild  weather. 
The  winter  had  been  an  eccentric  one  in  many  ways, 
but  the  oldest  inhabitants  —  the  ancient  weather-vane- 
maker,  Ole  Alfsen,  among  them  —  said  that  nothing 
like  this  had  been  seen  in  a  good  twenty  years  at 
least. 

On  the  morning  of  the  final  resolve  referred  to, 
Barclay  hurried  away  from  his  untasted  breakfast. 
Instead  of  taking  a  more  straightforward  route  to 
his  factory,  he  repaired  thither  by  the  way  of  his  fa- 
vorite promenade  along  the  lake  shore.  Once  there, 
he  lingered  awhile,  giving  way  to  his  discontent  and 
melancholy,  enhanced  by  the  subtle  mildness  of  the 
air.  Like  another  Achilles,  he  paced  by  the  sound- 
ing sea,  and  grieved  his  noble  heart  for  beautiful  lost 
Briseis. 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  223 

"  I  who  aimed  to  play  the  providence  in  the  lives 
of  others,"  he  lamented,  "  what  have  I  done  for  my 
own  ? "  And  he  went  on  :  "  Where  next  shall  I 
turn  ?  What  next,  in  the  world,  shall  I  do  ?  " 

Patches  of  snow  were  melting,  and  the  water  from 
them  was  running  gayly  away  in  the  gutters,  simula- 
ting all  the  antics  of  the  mightiest  streams.  A  few 
tender  shoots  of  grass  had  put  forth  their  green  heads 
from  under  the  snow,  perhaps  astonished  at  their  own 
temerity.  Down  on  the  margin  of  the  lake,  under 
the  steep  incline,  some  children  were  playing  boldly 
on  the  floating  ice ;  making  believe  that  the  broken 
cakes,  from  one  to  another  of  which  they  leaped  with 
the  aid  of  poles,  were  their  boats  and  islands.  The 
great  body  of  the  ice  in  the  bay  was  loosened,  and 
going  out  under  the  impulse  of  favoring  winds  from 
the  south.  Detached  masses  of  it  flecked  the  blue 
expanse  far  and  wide,  like  shining  islands  of  the 
blessed. 

There  was  to  be  noted  in  the  offing  a  large  bark, 
making  her  way  in,  and  acting  strangely.  She 
proved  to  be  the  Ocean  Wanderer,  a  vessel  loaded 
with  jute  and  paraffine,  which  had  been  winter-bound, 
above,  by  the  sudden  close  of  navigation  in  the  fall, 
and  was  now  availing  herself  of  the  first  opportunity 
to  run  for  her  port.  Barclay  was  to  see  her  again, 
later  in  the  day,  under  strange  circumstances  indeed. 
While  he  followed,  scarce  wittingly,  the  motions  of 
this  vessel,  Ives  Wilson  drove  by  in  a  bespattered 
buggy,  and  hailed  him. 

"  Oho,  spring  fever,"  said  the  editor,  characterizing 


'J'J  1  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

his  air  of  listlessness  ;  "  but  you  are  forcing  tbe  sea- 
son a  good  two  months.  There  is  a  great  deal  more 
chilliness,  too,  in  this  air  than  you  may  be  aware  of." 

He  insisted  on  taking  Barclay  up  and  carrying  him 
a  part  of  the  way  on  his  journey ;  and  the  latter,  who 
had  already  loitered  a  good  deal  longer  than  he  had 
meant  to,  accepted  the  accommodation. 

"  I  am  flying  around,  seeing  my  aldermen,  super- 
visors, and  that  sort  of  people,"  said  Wilson.  "  The 
elections  are  coming  on  soon,  and  the  city  and  county 
printing  has  got  to  be  looked  after.  I  always  make 
it  a  point  to  attend  to  those  things  myself." 

"  Is  there  any  danger,  then,  of  your  losing  your 
profitable  contracts  ?  " 

••  Well,  no ;  the  Index  always  sticks  to  a  good 
thing  when  it  has  it,  and  of  course  it  will  now.  Our 
readers  expect  it  of  us.  Of  course  it 's  all  right,  but 
I  go  round  once  in  a  while  and  keep  our  friends  up 
to  the  mark." 

"  I  hear  Jim  DeBow  is  going  into  politics,  and  is 
likely  to  be  our  next  mayor,"  said  Barclay,  by  way 
of  keeping  up  the  conversation." 

"  Going  in  ?  It  would  be  more  of  a  novelty  if  he 
would  keep  out.  He  's  always  been  in,  more  or  less, 
under  the  surface.  Yes,  this  time  he  wants  an  office 
for  himself,  —  though,  to  tell  the  truth,  it 's  not  so 
much  for  himself,  either.  He  wants  to  help  Ross- 
more  to  the  senatorship,  —  at  the  next  session  of  the 
legislature,  you  know.  If  DeBow  is  mayor,  he  '11 
work  the  city  employees  and  contractors  for  his  friend 
Rossmore,  and  against  Gulmore,  for  all  they  are 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  225 

worth.  Well,  that 's  all  right.  I  'm  for  Rossmore, 
too." 

"  You  give  me  an  interesting  inside  view  of  things." 

"  Oh,  that 's  nothing  ;  you  '11  be  in  politics  your- 
self, some  day,  and  then  you  '11  see  the  real  inside. 
Why  don't  you  use  the  popularity  you  've  got  down 
there  among  the  factory  hands,  and  run  for  some- 
thing now  ?  The  Index  will  back  you,  you  can  de- 
pend upon  that." 

"  Considering  that  I  have  not  been  a  resident  long 
enough,  and  for  some  few  other  reasons,  I  hardly 
think  I  will,"  said  Barclay  dryly. 

"  Oh,  as  to  residence,  our  law  is  a  little  peculiar. 
In  order  to  .encourage  the  investment  of  capital,  it 
makes  a  manufacturing  enterprise  like  yours  equiva- 
lent to  a  period  of  residence,  you  know.  You  are  a 
citizen  in  good  and  regular  standing,  and  can  run  for 
any  office  you  please." 

"  Thank  you  !  It  is  worth  knowing."  Little  his 
interlocutor  thought  of  the  brief  space  of  his  remain- 
ing stay. 

"  By  the  by,"  began  Ives  Wilson  again,  "  there  's 
a  man  down  your  way  —  Idak,  the  landlord  of  the 
Johannisberger  House  —  whose  vote  I'd  like  to  se- 
cure, in  case  he  's  nominated  for  alderman.  Our  read- 
ers want  the  Index  to  have  Idak's  vote,  of  course, 
but  the  fact  is  we've  had  to  haul  him  over  the  coals  a 
good  deal,  —  show  him  up  as  a  corruptionist  and  that 
sort  of  thing,  —  and  he  probably  don't  feel  very  friend- 
ly towards  us.  You  don't  think  you  could  let  him 
understand  that  the  custom  of  your  hands  would  de- 
pend on  his  giving  the  Index  his  vote,  do  you  ?  " 


•_'•_'»',  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

"  No,  I  don't  think  I  could." 

"  Oh,  a  mere  suggestion  ;  no  offense,"  said  the 
other,  with  the  greatest  good-nature.  "  He  wants  to 
go  into  the  board  only  to  get  another  lamp-post  in 
front  of  his  house,  I  understand,  and  most  likely  we 
can  block  him  any  way,  if  he  is  n't  with  us." 

The  river,  as  well  as  the  land,  showed  the  unusual 
forwardness  of  the  season.  Several  of  its  bridges 
had  begun  to  turn,  for  passing  vessels,  with  considera- 
ble frequency.  People  who  were  hindered  by  them 
did  not  give  vent  to  their  impatience  in  the  ordinary 
way,  but  lingered,  and  noted  gladly  the  stir  on  the 
water,  which  furnished  such  tangible  evidence  that 
the  long  embargo  of  winter  was  broken,  and  the 
genial  spring  at  hand.  The  sail-lofts  and  block  and 
cordage  shops  were  open,  active  repairs  were  in  prog- 
ress, and  the  smell  of  tar,  oakum,  and  fresh  pine 
shavings  pervaded  the  docks. 

Regular  navigation  was  by  no  means  yet  open, 
but  several  craft  in  the  river  had  taken  advantage 
of  the  occasion  to  change  their  moorings  from  one 
point  to  another,  in  tow  of  the  stout  little  steam-tugs. 
The  lower  works  of  many,  which  were  for  the  first 
time  visible,  now  that  they  were  fairly  denuded  of 
the  ice,  presented  a  battered  and  rusty  appearance 
after  their  hard  usage  by  the  winter.  The  circle 
of  gossips,  who  had  too  long  hibernated  round  the 
large  stove  in  the  main  room  of  the  Johannisberger 
House,  were  glad  to  come  forth  to  the  porch  and  see 
a  little  of  actual  marine  affairs  out-of-doors.  One 
Coffee  John,  on  the  street  hard  by,  threw  open  for 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  227 

the  first  time  his  booth,  the  shutters  of  which  blos- 
somed out  like  the  leaves  of  some  dusty  sort  of 
Victoria  Regina. 

The  cutter  Florence  Lane,  among  the  other  craft, 
had  pulled  out,  and  taken  a  brief  turn  beyond  the 
mouth  of  the  Straight  Cut,  with  its  two  long  piers, 
and  was  now  lying  at  her  wharf,  with  steam  partly 
up.  She  was  short-handed,  as  yet  her  complement 
of  men,  furloughed  for  the  winter,  not  having  been 
recalled  to  duty  ;  but  she  had  limbered  up  her  engines 
a  bit  to  prepare  for  the  coming  season.  Barclay 
heard  this,  in  passing,  from  William  Alfsen,  who  was 
bustling  about  her  in  an  important  way.  His  chief 
superior  was  absent  that  day,  serving  as  groomsman 
at  a  wedding,  and  the  second  was  temporarily  ill ; 
leaving  him  in  the  position  of  leading  care-taker,  and 
he  seemed  very  much  in  his  element. 

Ives  Wilson  set  Barclay  down  at  the  Chippewa 
Street  bridge,  —  the  latter  insisting  upon  his  doing 
so,  —  and  went  his  way.  Worthy  Ludwig  Trap- 
schuh,  at  that  place,  had  resumed  his  full  air  of 
bumptious  arrogance,  kept  a  little  in  abeyance  during 
the  winter.  He  was  accustomed  to  look  at  Barclay 
with  gangrened  vision.  He  had  heard  of  peculiar 
doings  on  the  part  of  this  manufacturer,  to  which, 
as  a  conservative  person,  he  did  not  give  his  ap- 
proval, but  it  was  the  aid  to  the  Alfsens  that  was 
chiefly  offensive  to  him.  Not  only  had  the  son  se- 
cured, lately,  the  place  on  the  cutter,  but  the  old  man, 
his  father,  —  so  it  was  stated,  —  had  been  given  a 
very  profitable  job  of  ornamental  copper-work  to  do 


228  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

for  the  factory  itself.  But  Trapschuh  was  accus- 
tomed to  give  this  regular  passenger  a  semi-respect- 
ful nod,  nevertheless.  As  he  did  so  to-day  in  the 
usual  way,  he  said,  — 

"  Some  kind  o'  circus  goin'  on  over  by  your  fec- 
toree,  ain't  it  ?  " 

Barclay  looked,  and  saw  that  a  disturbance  was  in 
progress  on  the  Island.  The  aspect  of  it  grew  more 
serious  as  he  approached.  A  rioting  mob  of  long- 
shoremen, in  fact,  were  trying  to  prevent  the  unload- 
ing of  a  vessel,  recently  arrived  at  the  coal  and  wood 
yards  of  Miller  &  Blake,  some  neighbors  with  whom 
he  had  a  slight  acquaintance.  Matters  had  reached 
a  dangerous  pass  by  the  time  he  set  foot  in  the  midst 
of  them.  The  foremost  rioters  were  already  ex- 
changing fisticuffs  with  the  men  on  the  vessel,  and 
some  of  the  latter  had  drawn  long  knives  and  stood 
on  the  defensive.  His  eye  caught  that  of  Fahnen- 
stock,  who  was  in  a  small  assemblage  of  spectators 
on  the  sidewalk,  at  a  safe  distance  from  the  fray. 
The  old  man  stepped  promptly  forth  in  response  to 
his  inquiry.  A  number  of  the  other  men  and  boys 
from  his  factory  were  there  as  well ;  were  watching 
with  interest  the  issue  of  events.  The  police  had 
been  sent  for,  but  had  not  yet  come. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  asked  Paul  Barclay. 
"  What  is  going  on  ?  " 

"  Supply  and  demand  is  the  matter.  The  unifyin' 
o'  labor  is  the  matter,"  responded  the  usually  quiet 
employee,  indulging  in  mild  sarcasm,  something  very 
unusual  for  him.  "  If  Hoolan  was  only  here,  he  'd 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  229 

give  you  all  the  outs  and  ins  of  it.  It 's  a  strike,'* 
he  went  on.  "  The  coal-heavers  would  n't  work  for 
the  wages  offered  'em,  and  the  owners  put  on  a  gang 
o'  Polacks  in  their  place,  and  now  the  men  are  tryin' 
to  drive  the  Polacks  away." 

"  The  Polacks  is  takin'  the  bread  out  of  our 
mouths !  "  the  cry  here  arose.  "  D — n  'em,  we  '11 
club  'em ;  we  '11  throw  'em  into  the  river  !  " 

Barclay  hurried  forward.  He  would  have  been 
sorry  to  see  his  neighbors  or  their  property  come 
to  any  harm.  Blake,  the  junior  partner,  a  small, 
weak  man,  emerged  from  his  office,  near  the  wharf, 
and,  mounting  a  temporary  rostrum,  attempted  an 
address. 

"  I  tell  you,  men,"  he  began,  "  the  rate  we  offer  is 
better  than  that  paid  in  Buffalo,  Detroit,  or  Cleve- 
land to-day." 

"  Down  with  him!  Give  us  our  money!  Put  up 
or  shut  up !  "  shouted  the  unruly  mob,  interrupting 
him  wildly. 

All  at  once  a  shower  of  sticks  and  stones  filled  the 
air.  A  rush  was  made  for  the  orator  ;  he  was  over- 
turned from  his  brief  prominence,  and  it  would  with- 
out doubt  have  fared  hardly  with  him  but  for  the 
protecting  arm  of  Barclay,  who  had  forced  his  way 
through  the  crowd  in  the  nick  of  time,  followed  zeal- 
ously by  some  of  his  own  men.  The  young  rescuer 
had  a  sort  of  leonine,  intrepid  air  he  was  seldom 
seen  to  wear.  He  took  the  rostrum  himself.  He 
was  already  known,  and  his  reputation  for  fearless- 
ness commanded  respect.  His  words  put  the  matter 


230  Til K   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

in  a  reasonable  light,  and  he  was  allowed  to  speak 
without  molestation. 

"  One  swallow  does  not  make  a  summer,  my  men," 
he  said  in  substance,  "  nor  one  day  of  thaw  like  this 
a  season's  marine  traffic.  You  have  here  but  a  soli- 
tary vessel.  She  has  worked  her  way  through  the 
ice  with  great  difficulty,  and  there  are  not  likely  to 
be  any  others  for  a  long  time  to  come.  Even  sup- 
posing the  pay  be  not  all  you  think  you  are  fairly 
entitled  to,  is  it  worth  while  to  quarrel  about  so 
small  a  matter  ?  Come,  I  ask  you  to  look  at  it  like 
sensible  men.  Is  it  not  better  to  wait  till  the  Straits 
of  Mackinaw  are  open  ?  When  the  fleet  comes 
through,  and  there  are  plenty  of  vessels  and  plenty 
of  work,  that  is  the  time  to  settle  the  question  of 
wages  for  the  coming  season." 

His  own  men,  patriotically  standing  by  "  the  boss," 
set  up  a  shrill  cheering,  in  which  some  of  the  strikers 
faintly  joined.  The  disturbance  was  checked,  at  any 
rate,  and  during  its  time  of  vacillation  a  platoon  of 
police  arrived  at  double  quick,  and  took  possession 
of  the  ground.  The  sight  of  the  guardians  of  the 
peace  renewed  the  irritation  of  the  strikers  and  made 
them  think  anew  of  their  grievances,  but  it  was  now 
too  late.  They  dispersed  and  stood  in  small  knots 
along  the  bridges  leading  to  the  mainland,  and  in 
front  of  the  small  saloons  there,  then  by  degrees* 
disappeared  altogether,  and  danger  of  further  rioting 
was  at  an  end. 

On  reaching  his  Works,  Barclay  returned  again  to 
the  momentous  subject  he  had  on  his  mind.  He 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  231 

meant  to  announce  to  Maxwell  his  resignation  from 
the  partnership.  But  Maxwell  was  not  there.  On 
the  contrary,  he  was  met  by  a  request  from  Maxwell 
—  who  had  been  a  little  indisposed  for  two  or  three 
days  past  —  to  go  over  and  see  him  at  his  house  as 
soon  as  convenient,  and  thither  he  hastened  to  Max- 
well. 

He  found  his  elderly  partner  rising  up  in  bed,  sup- 
ported by  pillows,  surrounded  in  a  solicitous  way  by 
his  family,  and  presenting  the  appearance  of  quite  a 
sick  man.  The  Maxwell  family  never  concealed  their 
appreciation  of  the  fact  that  Barclay  had  been  their 
salvation  from  ruin,  and  their  manner  to  him  on  the 
present  occasion  was  not  less  full  of  affectionate  grat- 
itude than  usual. 

Maxwell  feebly  put  out  his  hand  to  take  that  of 
the  visitor. 

"  Well,  here  I  am,"  said  he,  affecting  a  certain 
cheerfulness,  as  invalids  do.  "  Here  I  am,  laid  up  in 
dry-dock,  and  hardly  not  likely  ever  to  get  afloat  again, 
enough  to  be  worth  mentioning." 

o  o 

"  Don't  say  that !  — What  seems  to  be  the  trouble  ?  " 
"  The  same  old  trouble,  —  liver  and  kidneys,  I  sup- 
pose. Perhaps  I  've  never  said  quite  enough  about 
it  to  you.  Never  fear,  it  is  n't  going  to  finish  me 
this  time.  I  thought,  one  while,  it  was.  There  's 
one  simple  little  straightforward  thing,  though,  that 's 
got  to  be  done,  and  that 's  why  I  've  sent  for  you." 

{'  Let  us  do  this  simple  little  straightforward  thing 
at  once,  then,  by  all  means,"  returned  the  younger 
partner  smilingly. 


232  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

"  I  have  got  to  give  up  business.  You  must  run 
the  factory  alone." 

"  What !  "  cried  Barclay,  astonished  to  find  his  own 
very  proposition  thus  taken  out  of  his  mouth,  in  the 
reverse  sense,  and  used  against  him.  "  I  cannot 
think  of  it." 

"  You  must.  There  is  no  alternative.  It 's  either 
dissolution  of  the  partnership  or  a  dissolution  of  the 
partner.  The  doctors  told  me  to  stop  work  long  ago, 
or  it  would  stop  me.  I  did  n't  do  it,  and  this  is  what 
it  has  come  to." 

"  I  leave  all  my  interests  in  your  hands,"  he  went 
on  presently.  "  You  shall  give  me  what  you  please. 
All  we  have  in  the  world,  any  way,  comes  from  you, 
and  why  should  I  not  trust  it  to  you  with  the  most 
unlimited  confidence  ?  " 

"  You  magnify  a  very  small  matter,"  protested  his 
hearer  modestly. 

"  It 's  so.  and  sometimes  I  want  you  to  be  willing 
to  hear  it.  I  have  no  fear  but  the  business  will  pros- 
per, and  all  of  us  with  it.  You  have  got  to  prosper  ; 
you  are  too  good  not  to,  if  there  's  any  justice  go- 
ing. I  have  no  fear  of  your  not  being  able  to  run  the 
factory  alone  ;  you  are  a  born  manager  and  a  great 
success.  You  are  the  very  man  for  it." 

Careful  inquiry  and  conference  with  the  medical 
advisers  and  the  family  but  served  to  confirm  the 
truth  of  the  state  of  things  herein  outlined.  Retire- 
ment from  the  partnership  was  no  mere  whin^  of 
Maxwell's,  but  an  inexorable  necessity.  Barclay  saw 
that  he  would  be  obliged  to  remain  in  the  place  until 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  233 

a  proper  winding  tqp  of  the  responsibilities  thus  fall- 
ing to  his  charge  could  be  effected.  He  would  not 
have  hesitated,  by  hasty  action,  to  sacrifice  his  own 
financial  interests,  but  the  others  could  not  be  lightly 
treated.  He  must  remain  till  there  was  a  sale  and 
transfer  of  the  business,  and  an  equitable  division  of 
the  proceeds. 

As  he  left  the  house,  his  heart  partly  sank  with 
added  depression,  partly  fluttered  with  new  elation  at 
this  enforced  change  of  plan,  and  all  that  might  hap- 
pen during  the  lengthened  period  of  his  stay.  An- 
other change  01  temperature  had  occurred  ;  the  brief, 
unseasonable  touch  of  spring  weather  was  already 
over.  The  wind  now  blew  from  the  northeast,  driv- 
ing the  brief  ethereal  mildness  before  it,  and  bringing 
cutting  snowflakes  on  its  wings.  While  still  at  Max- 
well's house,  Barclay  had  heard,  in  the  muffled  way 
in  which  it  is  conveyed  to  close  interiors,  the  din  of 
the  fire  tocsin.  He  now  heard  the  brazen  clangor 
taken  up  by  one  bell  after  another,  till  it  reached  the 
dimensions  of  a  general  alarm.  Many  persons  were 
running  excitedly  towards  the  river  ;  he  followed,  and 
when  he  reached  a  rising  ground,  saw  fire  at  a  number 
of  points  along  the  water's  edge.  The  most  consid- 
erable blaze  was  surely  near  his  own  property  on 
Barclay's  Island.  He  remembered  the  events  of  the 
morning,  suspected  incendiarism  on  the  part  of  the 
dissuaded  strikers,  and  hurried  in  hot  haste  towards 
the  scene. 

This  is  what  had  happened.  The  bark  Queen 
Wanderer  had  come  into  the  harbor  with  everything 


234  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

drawing,  and  something  so  abnormal  in  her  handling, 
so  nervous  in  her  haste,  that  calamity  seemed  an- 
nounced in  advance.  She  did  not  lower  any  sail,  but 
tore  through  the  Straight  Cut  at  her  swiftest  pace. 
Her  steering  was  so  erratic  that  the  light-keeper 
thought  it  a  miracle  she  was  not  dashed  in  pieces 
even  against  the  entrance  piers.  He  saw  a  part  of 
her  small  crew  lying  on  her  decks,  as  if  utterly  ex- 
hausted, while  others  furiously  worked  the  deck 
pumps.  A  speed  of  four  miles  an  hour  was  dec- 
orously prescribed  as  the  maximum  for  vessels  in  the 
river,  but  this,  together  with  all  other  marine  regu- 
lations, she  disregarded.  The  harbor  master's  depu- 
ties marked  her  with  wondering  eyes,  and,  recovering 
themselves,  followed  her  along  the  docks,  to  arrest 
and  subject  her  to  condign  punishment.  But  she  was 
not  easily  overtaken  ;  she  had  no  idea  of  stopping. 
Some  small  craft  in  her  way  avoided  her  with  diffi- 
culty, and  their  amazed  crews  hurled  imprecations 
after  her.  The  lower  bridges  flew  open  before  her 
to  avoid  collision,  and  she  entered  the  wide,  open  ex- 
pause,  or  basin,  by  Barclay's  Island  in  the  heart  of 
the  city.  Where  vessels  were  so  numerous,  to  escape 
entanglement  was  impossible.  She  barely  missed  a 
schooner,  carrying  away  a  yawl  from  its  davits,  but 
the  next  moment  struck  a  luckless  brigantine,  head 
on,  and  sent  it  to  the  bottom.  Some  of  her  men, 
meanwhile,  danced  about,  called  and  signalled,  and 
finally  jumped  overboard. 

The    mystery  of    her   strange   conduct   was  out. 
From  the  yawning  seams,  opened  by  the  shock,  leaped 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  235 

forth  tongues  of  flame,  which  licked  quickly  up  the 
sides  of  the  hull,  and  seized  the  shrouds  and  sails.  The 
Ocean  Wanderer  was  on  fire.  The  hatches  had  been 
battened  down,  to  keep  the  air  from  it,  and  the  crew 
had  fought  bravely,  hoping  to  save  the  cargo,  and 
bring  their  vessel  within  reach  of  assistance,  but  at 
the  last  moment,  had  been  too  exhausted  even  to 
shorten  sail,  or  properly  direct  her  course. 

A  patrol  from  a  harbor  fire-boat  got  aboard,  and 
let  go  an  anchor ;  but  the  flames  so  wreathed  the 
tackles  that  the  sails  could  not  be  interfered  with, 
and  the  bark  still  drove  onward,  with  such  a  momen- 
tum as  snapped  the  chain.  A  hawser  was  then  hur- 
riedly made  fast,  and  an  enterprising  tug  undertook 
to  draw  her  away  from  further  mischief,  and  detain 
her  where  she  could  be  effectively  dealt  with,  but 
this  burned  off  almost  immediately.  The  heat  be- 
came so  intense  that  all  alike  were  now  obliged  to 
seek  their  own  safety,  and  leave  her  to  her  fate. 

When  Barclay  arrived  in  the  vicinity,  he  found 
that  the  coal-yards  of  Miller  &  Blake,  with  the  dis- 
puted vessel  of  the  morning,  and  his  own  principal 
buildings  as  well,  had  been  kindled  by  sparks  from 
the  floating  fire-bug,  and  were  wellnigh  consumed. 
Foreman  Akins,  with  a  few  assistants,  was  passing 
buckets  of  water  to  save  a  few  of  the  minor  struc- 
tures, but  the  factory  proper  was  beyond  recall.  Old 
Fahnenstock  was  muttering,  as  he  worked,  apt  quota- 
tions from  the  Book  of  Daniel  and  the  Apocalypse. 

The  singular  agent  of  destruction  grew  momenta- 
rily more  threatening.  The  sheets  of  flame  streamed 


236  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

yet  higher  and  more  wildly  from  her  inflammable 
cargo.  Her  sails  still  drew,  and  the  breezes  that 
filled  them,  made  the  more  capricious  by  the  heat  of 
the  conflagration,  caused  her  to  tack  and  veer  about 
the  basin  as  with  a  kind  of  malignant  deliberation. 
One  would  have  said  a  crew  of  demons  on  board  di- 
rected her  movements  that  she  might  do  the  great- 
est possible  harm.  The  fire-bells  on  shore  were 
ringing  continuously,  and  all  the  engines  were  out,  in 
active  use.  The  citizens  thronged  to  the  waterside 
by  thousands,  to  witness  the  unheard-of  spectacle. 

The  news  had  been  brought  to  William  Alfsen  by 
vessels  hastily  changing  their  moorings  and  escaping 
up  the  river.  Lieutenant  Gregg,  as  has  been  said, 
was  serving  as  groomsman  at  a  wedding,  and  about 
this  very  time  was  pacing  up  the  central  aisle  of  St. 
Jude's.  The  beautiful  bridesmaid  on  his  manly  arm 
was  no  other  than  Justine  DeBovv.  Whether  it  was 
only  pique  on  her  part,  or  genuine  liking  for  the  lieu- 
tenant, suddenly  developed,  together  with  reconcile- 
ment to  her  disappointment, — as  we  must  all  become 
reconciled  to  the  inevitable,  —  it  is  certain  that  she 
had  never  treated  the  commander  of  the  cutter  so 
well  as  now.  And  again  —  whether  this  idea  had 
already  entered  her  head,  or  was  only  to  take  form 
there  by  slow  degrees  —  it  may  be  told  here  as  well 
as  elsewhere  that  she  was  to  walk  beside  him  as  a 
principal  in  a  similar  procession  before  the  year  was 
out. 

The  organ  of  St.  Jude's  pealed  forth  the  rich 
strains  of  the  wedding  march.  A  modish  bride  in 


THE  GOLDEN   JUSTICE.  237 

white  satin  and  orange  blossoms,  beside  a  groom  who 
looked  a  trifle  stiff  and  embarrassed,  paced  back 
again  down  the  aisle  ;  four  handsome  bridesmaids  in 
tea-rose  and  pink,  with  four  gallant  groomsmen, — 
Justine  DeBow  was  making  a  mental  note  of  the 
whole,  and  resolving  that  her  own  wedding  should  be 
very  nearly  like  it,  —  followed  them  ;  and  four  pretty 
children,  with  baskets  of  flowers,  brought  up  the  rear 
of  the  procession.  In  the  church  porch  Lieutenant 
Gregg  was  apprised  by  a  messenger,  sent  by  Alfsen, 
of  what  was  taking  place  on  the  river.  The  man 
had  waited  a  little,  not  having  dared  to  interrupt  him 
at  an  earlier  stage  of  the  proceedings.  There  were 
festivities  still  to  take  place,  rice  and  old  shoes  to  be 
thrown  after  the  bride  as  she  started  on  her  wedding 
journey  ;  but  the  honest  lieutenant's  duty  lay  else- 
where. If  his  vessel  were  lost,  he  knew  it  would  be 
no  valid  excuse  to  the  government  that  he  had  been 
assisting  even  at  the  most  distinguished  of  marriage 
ceremonies. 

When  he  reached  the  wharf  the  cutter  was  gone. 
Alfsen,  in  fact,  finding  him  so  long  in  coming,  had 
not  waited  for  him.  As  the  panic  in  the  river  in- 
creased, he  had  put  on  a  full  head  of  steam,  to  be 
prepared  for  emergencies.  Information  was  brought 
him  that  the  destruction  below  was  appalling ;  all 
efforts  to  check  it  were  vain  ;  the  whole  town  might 
be  burned.  An  original  inspiration  all  at  once  took 
possession  of  him.  He  hastily  recruited  a  force  of 
assistants  from  the  shore,  cast  off  his  lines,  and  turned 
his  bow  down  stream. 


238  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

Ludwig  Trapscliuh  opened  the  bridge  before  for 
him,  staring  very  hard  indeed ;  a  lively  curiosity 
mingled  both  with  his  dislike  and  the  excitement  of 
the  moment. 

"  What  he 's  goin'  down  stream  for,  instead  of 
up  ?  "  he  wondered  aloud.  "  And  what  he 's  goin' 
to  do  with  all  them  guns  ?  " 

The  Florence  Lane  was  a  side-wheel  steamer,  of 
some  four  hundred  tons  burden,  carrying  two  light 
deck  guns  forward  and  two  more  aft.  Alfsen  shifted 
the  guns  to  the  same  side,  and  prepared  for  action. 
The  multitude  of  other  witnesses  around  the  margin 
of  the  basin  where  the  cutter  appeared  shared  the 
curiosity  of  Trapschuh.  Why  was  she  coming  down 
to  actually  court  the  danger,  instead  of  seeking  safety 
in  flight  ?  But  occasion  for  doubt  was  soon  dis- 
pelled. The  Florence  Lane,  after  passing  the  bridge, 
wore  round,  manoeuvred  to  windward,  then  ran  down 
daringly  close  to  the  burning  vessel,  and  poured  a 
telling  broadside  into  her.  An  enthusiastic  cheer 
from  the  shores  filled  the  air :  the  plan  was  under- 
stood ;  a  promising  form  of  deliverance  had  at  last 
appeared. 

A  naval  battle  now  ensued,  singular  indeed  for 
this  quiet  stream,  in  the  very  midst  of  the  town. 
The  cutter's  pieces  were  of  but  small  calibre,  and  the 
marauder,  though  staggered  and  checked  by  their 
fire,  was  not  yet  disposed  of.  Barclay  saw  her  turn 
towards  her  assailant,  as  if  actuated  by  a  definite  and 
conscious  purpose  of  revenge.  The  cutter  glibly 
evaded  her,  and  again  manoeuvred  for  a  place  of  van- 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  239 

tage.  A  fickle  current  of  air  that  had  made  the  fire- 
ship  follow  the  other  now  abandoned  her,  and,  ap- 
pearing to  disdain  to  chase  further  so  cowardly  an 
antagonist,  she  veered  once  more  towards  the  shore. 
She  gathered  speed  as  she  went.  She  seemed  to 
threaten  in  a  direct  line  the  most  dangerous  of  all 
the  points  yet  selected,  —  a  group  of  the  imposing 
wheat  elevators.  One  touch  of  her  fiery  beak  upon 
them,  one  blast  of  her  burning  breath,  and  they  were 
gone  beyond  hope  of  rescue. 

At  this  moment  Lieutenant  Gregg  arrived,  having 
followed  his  missing  cutter  down  the  river.  He 
shouted  hoarsely  to  Alfsen  through  his  coupled 
hands,  and  then  ran  about  in  search  of  a  boat  in 
which  to  put  off  to  him.  The  subordinate  made  no 
apparent  change  in  bis  purposes.  He  steamed  after 
the  receding  bark,  and  fired  into  her  another  broad- 
side, this  time  astern.  She  reeled  under  this  even 
more  than  the  former,  but  still  kept  on  her  menacing 
course.  The  distance  between  her  and  the  shore 
rapidly  diminished. 

Once  more  Alfsen  ran  boldly  near  her,  to  wind- 
ward, and  trained  his  guns,  loaded  now  with  chain 
cable,  on  her  quarter.  The  roar  of  this  final  report 
went  forth  from  all  the  brazen  throats  at  once.  The 
death  wound  was  inflicted  ;  the  bark's  side  was  stove 
in.  She  gave  a  violent  lurch  downward  ;  the  waters 
poured  over  her ;  and  with  dense,  suffocating  clouds 
of  steam  rising  from  the  conflict  of  fire  and  water, 
she  sank  heavily  out  of  sight.  Only  a  portion  of  her 
spars  and  cordage  still  remained  above  the  surface, 
crackling  and  snapping  awhile  till  consumed. 


240  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

The  danger  of  further  loss  of  property  averted, 
William  Alfsen  was  the  hero  of  the  hour.  A  purse 
was  started  for  his  benefit,  but  this,  not  being  com- 
pleted at  the  moment,  languished,  after  the  manner 
of  such  subscriptions,  and  never  amounted  to  any- 
thing tangible.  A  more  real  reward,  in  the  shape  of 
promotion  from  Washington,  was  also  kept  back  for 
some  time  through  the  enmity  of  Lieutenant  Gregg. 
That  commander  could  not  reconcile  himself  to  see- 
ing another  reap  the  honors  of  the  occasion  ;  he  was 
inclined  even  to  make  charges  against  his  subordi- 
nate. But  this  ill-will  was  eventually  withdrawn, 
and  Alfsen  was  duly  advanced  and  came  to  be  es- 
teemed a  man  in  the  way  of  yet  higher  promotion. 

Paul  Barclay,  having  seen  the  Stamped  -  Ware 
Works  reduced  to  ashes,  turned  away.  Little  time 
now  was  needed  for  any  cumbrous  adjustment  of  af- 
fairs ;  it  was  only  a  question  of  collecting  the  insur- 
ance money.  His  philanthropic  experience  and  his 
agitating  quandary  were  ended  alike  in  the  most  ef- 
fective of  ways,  and  he  was  free  to  go  when  he 
would. 

He  put  any  small  matters  of  his  own  that  might 
yet  need  attention  into  the  hands  of  a  reliable  agent. 
He  made  provision  for  the  hands  thrown  out  of  work, 
that  they  need  not  suffer  till  they  had  had  ample 
time  to  find  employment  elsewhere.  Then,  when  all 
was  complete,  and  the  last  preparations  for  his  de- 
parture made,  he  went  to  pay  his  final  respects  to 
Mrs.  Varemberg. 


XI. 

MRS.    VAREMBERG    IS    RELEASED. 

MRS.  VAREMBERG'S  first  explanation  to  herself  of 
Barclay's  visit  was  that  he  had  been  moved  by  the 
exciting  events  last  described  to  abandon  the  peculiar 
reserve  he  had  manifested  of  late, and  had  comeback 
to  her  somewhat  in  the  old  way. 

She  had  sat  down  at  once  and  written  him  a  note 
of  sympathy,  as  soon  as  she  had  learned  by  public 
hearsay  something  of  the  circumstances  of  the  case. 

"  It  is  fortunate  you  were  so  well  insured,"  she 
said ;  "  the  fire  will  not  prove  an  unmixed  calamity, 
after  all.  You  can  now  rebuild,  and  incorporate  in 
the  new  factory  all  your  favorite  ideas." 

"  I  do  not  think  of  rebuilding,"  he  replied,  in  a 
grave  way,  in  which  she  already  found  something 
ominous. 

"  Not  rebuild  ?  You  are  surely  not  going  to  give 
up  your  plans,  and  allow  a  business  of  such  impor- 
tance to  lapse  entirely  ?  " 

"  The  partnership  had  been  dissolved  even  before 
the  fire  took  place.  Maxwell  was  obliged  to  with- 
draw, by  the  condition  of  his  health,  and  I  could  not 
go  on  alone.  I  had  already  prepared  to  wind  the 
business  up,  or  transfer  it  to  other  hands.  I  have  no 
longer  any  pretext  for  staying.  I  am  going  away 
from  Keewaydin  for  good." 


242  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

\\\<  companion  gave  him  a  startled,  pathetic  glance 
that  seemed  to  search  his  very  soul.  Then  she  af- 
fected to  receive  the  news  of  his  departure,  as  Barclay 
hud  tried  to  convey  it,  with  a  decorous  calmness. 

"  And  your  army  of  hands,"  she  said,  "  thus  thrown 
out  of  employment,  —  it  will  be  a  severe  blow  to 
them ;  but  of  course  you  could  not  be  expected  to 
stay  on  their  account  alone." 

"  I  have  done  what  I  could  for  them.  I  trust  they 
•will  not  suffer,  but  will  obtain  places  in  other  shops." 

"  Well,  we  shall  all  be  sorry  you  are  going  ;  you 
will  be  much  missed.  Yes,  this  has  been  an  unfor- 
tunate fire  indeed." 

Her  lips  trembled,  and  her  eyes  fell  uneasily  to 
the  floor  instead  of  meeting  his.  The  conversation 
seemed  already  to  languish ;  there  appeared  to  be 
little  more  to  say. 

Barclay  had  come  in  with  his  hat  and  stick,  and  sat 
on  the  edge  of  a  sofa,  with  a  sort  of  temporary  air,  as 
if  momentarily  about  to  move.  Mrs.  Varemberg  sat 
near  him  in  a  high-backed,  carved-oak  chair.  She 
leaned  back  presently,  and  found  a  support  for  her 
head  against  it,  as  with  a  patient  languor  of  suffering. 
Her  lover  involuntarily  noted  this  pose,  as  he  had  so 
often  studied  before  every  varied  phase  of  her  aspect. 
Was  it  really  some  transcendent  charm  in  her,  that 
was  visible  to  all  others  as  well,  or  was  it  only  the 
glamour  of  his  affection  ? —  for  she  was  always  beau- 
tiful to  him.  In  every  attitude,  whether  sitting, 
standing,  reclining,  whether  moving  or  at  rest,  he 
could  have  called  to  her  with  delight  to  stay  and  be 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  243 

pictured  so.  There  was  nothing  bizarre  or  operatic 
in  her  type ;  she  was  full  of  a  gentle  repose.  In  her 
weakness  she  had  seemed  to  him  like  a  flower  that 
the  dew  and  sunshine  might  yet  wholly  revive  ;  bent 
on  its  stalk,  but  not  broken. 

"  Must  I  leave  thee,  Paradise,  —  leave  these  happy 
walks  and  shades  ?  "  Barclay  half  quoted  to  himself, 
as  he  wistfully  gazed.  He  knew  well  that  it  would 
have  been  far  better  not  to  have  come  to  pay  his  re- 
spects in  person.  He  ought  to  have  followed  his  first 
intention,  and  only  written  to  her :  he  could  have 
pretended  that  some  sudden  business  exigency  had 
prevented  him  from  doing  anything  else. 

They  talked  in  the  wretched,  perfunctory  way  that 
people  do  who  have,  on  every  ground  of  prudence,  to 
avoid  the  one  topic  on  which  their  thoughts  are  burn- 
ingly  alive.  But  when  it  appeared  that  all  Barclay's 
preparations  were  complete  and  he  was  to  leave  town 
the  very  next  day,  Mrs.  Varemberg  started  with  an 
agitation  she  could  not  overcome.  She  said  to  her- 
self that  she  had  counted  upon  more  time.  Not  that 
a  little  time  more  or  less,  or  a  few  more  meetings, 
should  have  made  any  great  difference,  it  is  true ;  but 
she  thought  that,  with  a  proper  interval,  while  he  was 
still  in  the  place,  she  might  somehow  have  better  rec- 
onciled herself  to  the  idea. 

"  Men  are  fortunate,"  she  commented,  in  a  dreary 
tone  .  "  they  can  go ;  life  is  full  of  distractions  for 
them.  It  is  always  women  who  must  remain." 

"  Come,  why  need  we  take  a  serious  tone  ? "  re- 
joined Paul  Barclay,  assuming  a  brisk  cordiality,  to 


'-Mi  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

cover  the  critical  moment  of  the  good-by.  "  There !  " 
taking  both  her  hands  into  his,  and  giving  them  a 
hearty  pressure,  "  we  shall  meet  again,  of  course ; 
people  always  do,  you  know.  It  will  probably  not  be 
long  till  then." 

Mrs.  Varemberg  had  arisen,  and  stood  by  a  scroll- 
fashioned  end  of  the  sofa,  and  she  now  leaned  against 
it  for  support. 

"  See  what  a  little  sympathy  and  companionship 
can  do,"  she  said.  "  It  seems  as  if  I  could  not  bear 
to  have  you  go."  She  affected  a  plaintive  smile,  but 
her  look  was  pitifully  wistful  and  forlorn. 

This  was  fatuous  conduct,  if  there  were  any  real 
intention  to  adhere  to  the  proprieties,  to  part  without 
explanation,  but  it  was  involuntary.  A  tide  of  feel- 
ing was  rising  beyond  the  power  of  either  to  control. 
Barclay  had  nerved  up  all  his  fortitude  against  him- 
self, but  he  had  not  expected  to  have  to  contend 
against  her  weakness  as  well. 

"  I  have  been  a  little  distraction  to  you ;  is  not  that 
all,  dear  Virginia  ?"  he  said,  taking  affectionately  the 
name  they  had  used  in  their  familiar  correspondence. 
He  spoke  coaxingly,  soothingly,  like  some  strong 
elder  brother.  "  You  will  find  others  who  will  answer 
the  purpose  just  as  well.  We  know  how  it  is  in  these 
cases ;  it  is  not  so  much  the  particular  person,  as  some 
one,  any  one,  to  fill  a  sort  of  weary,  aching  void.  «Atn 
I  not  right  ?  " 

"  I  wonder  if  it  be  so  ?  Yes,  perhaps  it  is  so,"  she 
answered  in  a  dreamy  way,  and  there  were  tones  in 
her  voice  that  suggested  the  sighing  of  the  wind 
through  lonesome  pines. 


THE   GOLDEN   JUSTICE.  245 

This  partial  agreement  with  him,  even  though  he 
had  sought  it,  gave  him  an  acute  pang.  A  violent 
struggle  was  going  on  within  him.  It  was  not  what 
he  had  wished  to  hear. 

"  So,  then,  good-by !  "  he  resumed.  "  I  expect  soon 
to  hear  that  you  have  got  rid  of  all  your  troubles,  and 
are  the  gayest  of  the  gay." 

"We  were  such  good  friends,"  she  said  in  a  retro- 
spective way,  disregarding  this  at  first.  "  We  seemed 
to  have  so  many  things  in  common.  Do  you  know,  it 
has  often  been  a  pleasure  to  me  to  know  that  you 
were  in  the  place,  even  when  I  never  saw  you.  And 
I  am  such  a  poor  creature  of  habit ;  the  few  things 
that  are  agreeable  in  my  life  take  such  a  hold  on  me. 
What  shall  I  do  without  you  ?  I  shall  die ;  that  is 
the  way  I  shall  come  to  the  end  of  my  troubles." 

Tears,  or  almost  tears,  for  him,  from  such  a  source  ? 
It  was  incredible,  bewildering.  The  final  stage  was 
reached.  Overcome  by  his  emotions,  Paul  Barclay 
found  no  further  obstacles  potent  enough  to  resist  the 
extremes  to  which  he  was  led.  He  threw  aside  all  his 
austere  resolutions,  or  rather  he  fell  upon  them  as  a 
defeated  Roman  general  fell  upon  his  sword. 

"  Can  it  be,  dear  child,  that  you  love  me  ? "  he 
demanded  passionately.  "  Can  it  be  that,'  after  all 
this  time,  I  have  won  the  priceless  treasure  of  your 
affection  ?  " 

"  Love  you  ?  Yes,  it  must  be  that  I  do,  —  I  love 
you  dearly.  Why  should  I  not  tell  you,  since  my 
heart  is  so  full  of  it  ?  And  you  —  you  have  cared 
for  me,  too  ?  " 


246  THE   GULDEN  JUfTl< 

''  Oh,  I  adore  you,  I  worship  you.  Why  do  I  not 
find  words  to  tell  you  all  that  I  feel  ?  You  are  all 
that  is  loveliest  and  best  in  womankind." 

Forgetful  of  all  else  but  this  moment  of  rapture, 
he  called  her  "  precious  "  and  "  darling  "  and  "  sweet 
one-"  He  caressed  with  soft  touches  of  infinite  ten- 
derness the  fine  hair  growing  upon  her  temples,  and 
mingled  half-murmured  words  and  kisses  indistin- 
guishably. 

"  Ah,  why  could  not  this  have  been  years  before  ?  " 
she  asked  him  presently.  "  You  said  to  me  once  you 
wondered  that  all  others  did  not  love  me  in  those 
times  :  why,  then,  did  not  you  ?  " 

"  Did  you  not  know  that  I  did  ?  Ah,  no,  I  have 
been  but  too  plainly  assured  by  your  conduct  that  you 
did  not,  — fool  aud  novice  that  I  was.  I  knew  little 
how  to  gain  the  favor  of  women.  You  were  my  only 
thought.  To  have  won  you  would  have  been  the 
paradise  of  my  wildest  dreams,  and  to  lose  you  has 
been  the  ruin  of  my  whole  existence." 

"  And  I  thought  you  were  only  my  friend.  How 
unobservant  I  too  must  have  been  !  Shall  I  tell  you 
that  I  used  to  wish  it  were  otherwise  ?  Shall  I  even 
confess  that  it  was  to  try  you  I  first  made  a  pretense 
of  encouraging  Varemberg  ?  But  then  there  came  a 
time  when  you  seemed  to  grow  utterly  indifferent 
towards  me,  and  I  let  myself  be  drawn,  without  any 
proper  consideration,  into  this  match  that  many  things 
conspired  to  foster." 

"  That  must  have  been  in  my  period  of  pique  aud 
moping.  After  I  had  gone,  in  my  turmoil  of  mind, 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  247 

to  ask  your  father's  consent  and  aid  to  make  you  a 
formal  proposal  of  marriage,  and  been  refused  by 
him,  I  cared  little,  and  perhaps  hardly  knew,  what  I 
did." 

"  You  made  my  father  a  proposal  for  my  hand," 
exclaimed  his  listener,  in  extreme  astonishment,  "and 
I  was  never  told  of  it  ?  Oh,  when,  when  was  th,is  ?  " 

Barclay  recalled  the  date,  and,  by  a  comparison  of 
times  and  seasons,  they  found  that  it  must  have  been 
much  before  the  Varemberg  affair  was  at  all  ad- 
vanced. 

"  And  all  these  wicked,  wasted  years  might  have 
been  spared !  "  commented  Mrs.  Varemberg  in  stupe- 
faction and  dismay.  Oh,  what  ruin,  —  what  ruin  ! 

"  And  it  is  true,  dearest,  that  you  might  have  loved 
me  even  then  ?  "  Barclay  soon  recommenced. 

"  I  am  sure  that  I  might,  that  I  did.  I  feel  so  to- 
wards you  now  that  I  cannot  conceive  -of  ever  having 
felt  any  differently.  And  yet  perhaps  I  was  wayward 
in  those  times,  and  you  were  a  little  over-reserved 
with  me.  I  think  I  was  a  trifle  afraid  of  you,  as  if 
you  were  looking  down  at  me  from  a  superior  height. 
But  your  fine  qualities  had  impressed  me,  your  con- 
sideration for  me  had  touched  me,  even  then.  Others 
—  my  father  —  should  have  been  wise  for  me.  Oh, 
Paul,  why  were  we  so  baffled  and  misled  ?  Why  was 
I  not  guided  aright  ?  I  can  never  forgive  him." 

Barclay  essayed  to  reassure  her.  "  He  would 
never  have  deliberately  planned  his  own  daughter's 
unhappiness,"  he  said.  "  He  too  must  have  been  de- 
ceived. It  is  easily  supposable  that  he  may  have 


-Is  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

thought  there  were  many  more  desirable  suitors  for 
your  hand  than  myself,"  said  Barclay. 

Did  he  need  any  amends  to  a  wounded  self-love 
for  the  past,  surely  he  must  have  felt  that  he  had 
them  now.  He  found  himself  advanced  to  the  post 
of  honor,  not  only  at  present,  but  beyond  all  compet- 
itors from  the  first.  He  was  not  merely  a  solace  and 
refuge  in  the  troubles  of  her  life,  —  though,  in  his 
unselfish  devotion  to  her,  he  was  prepared  to  be  con- 
tent with  even  that,  —  but  the  first  choice  of  her 
heart,  in  all  its  freshness. 

\\  hat  was  now  to  be  done  ?  The  inexorable  pres- 
sure of  the  situation  returned  upon  them. 

"Must  you  go?  "asked  Mrs.  Varemberg,  in  per- 
suasive tones,  soft  as  the  cooing  of  a  ring -dove. 
"  Wlty  must  you  go  ?  Ah,  yes,  you  have  no  pretext 
for  staying.  You  need  a  pretext  for  staying ;  I  alone 
am  not  sufficient  —  Do  not  mind  me  !  "  she  broke 
off  ;  "  it  is  only  my  weakness  that  talks  in  this  wav." 
"  Listen  to  me,  dearest  Florence,"  said  the  lover 
gravely.  "  After  what  has  happened  I  must  surely 
go,  even  if  there  had  not  existed  the  most  imperative 
of  reasons  before ;  we  both  know  it.  As  to  me, 
when  I  leave  here,  I  cannot  say  what  I  shall  do  or 
where  I  shall  go.  I  must  not  see  you,  nor  scarcely 
communicate  with  you.  But  this  one  thing  is  certain 
beyond  change :  you  have  become  a  vital  part  of  my 
life,  and  I  can  never  hereafter  separate  you  from  it. 
Let  us  do  this :  let  us  agree  to  be  true  to  each  other, 
to  wait  for  each  other.  Perhaps  Heaven,  in  its  mercy, 
will  yet  be  propitious  to  us." 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.    '  249 

'•  You  must  not  make  such  a  promise,"  protested 
Florence,  in  a  kind  of  horror.  "  You  must  not  tie 
yourself  to  one  with  so  hopeless  a  future  as  mine.  It 
is  folly  ;  it  is  wickedness.  I  beg  of  you  not  to  do  it ; 
I  beg  of  you  to  go  and  forget  me." 

"  Do  not  fancy  it  will  be  hard,"  went  on  Barclay, 
disregarding  her  in  his  turn.  "  To  be  true  to  your 
memory,  though  you  should  never  be  mine,  will  be 
sweeter  to  me  than  to  win  the  favor  of  all  the  world 
beside.  I  have  loved  you  once  and  forever  ;  if  I  may 
never  have  you,  I  will  die  as  I  have  lived,  but  I  will 
not  lower  the  standard  of  my  ideal." 

"  Paul,  dear  Paul,  you  must  not  wait  for  me,"  she  in- 
sisted. "  The  world  is  so  wide ;  I  am,  not  vain  enough 
to  think  it  does  not  contain  a  great  many  more  at- 
tractive than  I.  You  are  one  to  inspire,  as  to  give, 
the  truest  affection.  You  will  meet  some  one  who  is 
far  more  worthy  of  you  than  I.  I  shall  cease  to  be 
the  baneful  influence  I  have  been  in  your  life;  I  shall 
fade  into  a  mere  phantom,  and  you  will  be  happy,  as 
you  deserve." 

"  What  you  ask  me  to  do  would  not  be  in  my  power, 
even  if  I  wished  it.  Do  I  not  know  myself  ?  Have 
I  not  been  tried  by  too  many  tests  already  ?  " 

"  But  why  must  you  go  ? "  she  pleaded  weakly. 
"  Why  can  we  not  be  only  friends,  and  all  go  on  as 
before  ?  " 

"The  tongues  of  calumny  have  already  begun  to 
wag.  In  staying,  even  if  it  were  possible,  I  should 
do  you  great  harm  in  public  repute.  No,  there  is 
'nothing  else  but  for  me  to  go.  You  and  I  are  clear- 


250  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

headed  ;  we  are  not  of  that  weak  class  who  allow 
themselves  to  be  blinded  by  passion,  entangled  by 
wretched  sophistries." 

"  What  if  I  were  to  say  I  do  not  care  ?  I  do  not 
care,  —  I  do  not  care.  What  spell  has  this  feeling 
cast  over  me  ?  I  cannot  "see  my  way  any  longer  as 
to  what  is  right  and  what  is  wrong.  Why  are  we 
made  so  ?  Must  the  deepest  and  truest  affection  be 

forever  balked? " 

/ 

"  It  is  said,"  answered  Barclay  ruefully,  "  that  an 
honorable  man  ought  to  protect  a  woman  even  against 
herself." 

"  Perhaps  that  is  what  he  says  when  he  does  not 
love  her,"  she  rejoined,  with  a  reckless  skepticism. 

"  That  is  what  he  says,  darling,  when  he  loves  her 
in  the  purest  and  holiest  way  —  as  I  love  you." 

"  And  you  will  go  ?  Oh,  you  are  still  here  —  we 
are  talking  together  —  I  cannot  realize  it.  But  to- 
morrow !  to  wake  and  find  you  gone,  and  to  know  that 
I  shall  never  see  you  again  !  And  then,  all  the  to- 
morrows, to-morrows,  to-morrows  !  " 

"  Our  fate  is  hard ! "  cried  Barclay  in  response. 
He  was  stirred  beyond  measure  by  this  pathetic  la- 
ment for  him.  He  was  but  human  ;  he  abandoned 
his  self-control,  so  hardly  maintained,  and  began  to 
rage,  in  his  turn,  at  the  toils  in  which  they  found 
themselves  taken.  "  I  must  run  away  with  you  or 
from  you,"  he  said.  He  proposed  that  she  should  fly 
with  him.  He  beset  her  again  on  the  subject  of 
divorce.  He  broke  out  into  violent  expressions 
against  David  Lane  and  against  Varemberg.  "  He 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  251 

will  die,  —  he  must  die  !  "  he  exclaimed  excitably,  in 
reference  to  the  latter.  "  It  is  not  just.  Why  does 
such  vileness  cumber  the  earth  ?  " 

His  companion  recoiled.  The  vehemence  of  Bar- 
clay restored  to  her  in  a  certain  degree  her  own 
calmer  and  better  judgment.  In  a  brief  flash  of 
intuition  perhaps  both  had  a  glimpse,  as  it  were,  into 
the  crimes  to  which  weak  and  struggling  souls  are 
driven  by  the  pressure  of  circumstances  not  unlike 
their  own. 

"  He  is  still  young,"  said  Mrs.  Varemberg.  "  Per- 
haps he  will  yet  live  to  reform  and  become  a  useful 
and  honorable  member  of  society.  And,  dear  Paul, 
life  is  too  short  for  us  both  not  to  be  in  the  right." 

"  Give  me,  then,  what  words  of  comfort  you  can," 
said  Barclay,  gloomily  resigned,  "  for  my  exile  ;  for  I 
am  going." 

"Dear  Paul  "  —  she  began,  hesitatingly. 

"I  have  asked  you  for  a  promise,"  he  broke  in 
again.  "  Let  us  agree  that  we  will  be  true  to  each 
other  as  long  as  we  live,  and  that  you  will  be  mine  if 
it  ever  be  possible." 

"  How  can  I  resist  your  entrancing  words  ?  How 
can  I  really  refuse  anything  you  ask  me  ?  Yes,  I  will 
promise  ;  I  will  be  yours,  —  with  what  joy  and  hap- 
piness !  — if  I  am  ever  free,  if  Heaven  ever  permits 
it  to  be  so." 

Barclay  held  her  for  a  brief  instant  more  in  his 
arms,  as  if  he  would,  somehow,  by  this  last  embrace 
have  protected  her  from  the  hardship  of  her  destiny. 
Then  he  went  quickly  out  at  the  door,  looking 


252  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

neither  to  the  right  nor  the  left.  In  the  hall  was 
David  Lane,  who  had  just  come  down  the  stairs,  and 
who  cast  at  him  a  glance  of  keen  and  singular  sus- 
picion. 

liarclay  hurried  away,  without  a  word,  to  his  own 
abode  in  the  grassy  square  under  the  regis  of  the 
Golden  Justice.  He  had  already  said  his  farewells 
to  the  good  Thornhrooks,  who  expressed  a  genuine 
sorrow  at  having  him  leave  the  place.  By  daylight 
of  the  next  morning  he  was  on  board  the  train,  and 
had  ostensibly  taken  his  last  look  on  Keewaydin. 
He  was  to  pay  a  brief  visit  to  the  colony  established 
on  his  lands  in  Marathon  County  ;  he  meant  to  go 
round  the  city,  on  his  return,  and  proceed  to  the 
East  by  another  way. 

David  Lane  seemed  either  to  have  witnessed  or 
divined  something  of  their  manner  of  parting  just  de- 
scribed. He  entered  the  drawing-room,  with  a  stern- 
ly resentful  air,  and  stood  above  the  form  of  his 
daughter,  who  had  thrown  herself  down,  overcome 
with  grief,  in  a  corner  of  the  sofa.  Her  eyes  were 
red  with  weeping,  but  when  she  caught  the  gaze  of 
her  father  she  showed  no  trace  of  embarrassment ; 
her  look  was  even  more  stern  and  resentful  than  his 
own. 

"  Is  this  man  your  lover  ?  "  demanded  David  Lane. 
"  Yes,"  she  answered  simply. 

"  You  tell  me  this  in  your  sober  senses,  and  you 
suffer  him  to  embrace  you  ?  " 
"  Yes." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  drag  our  name  in  the  mire  of 
disgrace  ?  " 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  253 

The  irony  of  the  question  smote  upon  him  even 
as  he  asked  it.  Well  indeed  did  it  become  him  to 
frame  reproaches  on  the  subject  of  the  family  honor, 
—  he  who  had  done  so  much  to  preserve  it ! 

"We  love  each  other,"  she  answered,  smiling 
proudly,  "  but  do  not  fear  that  I  shall  disgrace  our 
name.  It  is  only  now  for  the  first  time  that  he  has 
.spoken  to  me,  and  he  is  going  away  ;  I  shall  proba- 
bly never  see  him  again.  I  do  not  know  why  I 
should  hold  to  any  scruples  for  your  sake,  since  you 
have  had  so  few  where  my  happiness  was  con- 
cerned," she  went  on ;  "  but  do  not  be  alarmed,  for 
I  repeat,  I  shall  do  our  name  no  discredit." 

"  What  am  I  to  understand  from  these  words  ? " 
David  Lane  queried,  trembling.  It  was  evident  that 
the  exalted  principles  of  his  daughter  had  to  some 
extent  failed  in  the  ordeal ;  that  an  explanation  — 
always  to  have  been  dreaded  —  had  at  last  taken 
place  between  these  two.  But  to  what  extent  had 
it  gone  ?  What  had  it  involved  ? 

"  It  was  you  who  wrecked  my  life,  —  you  who 
ought  to  have  been  strong  and  wise  for  me.  Why 
did  you  do  it  ?  Why  did  you  conceal  from  me  the 
offer  of  marriage  this  man  had  made  ?  " 

"  Would  it  have  made  a  difference  ?  "  he  demanded 
eagerly.  "  Would  you  have  married  him  ?  " 

"  I  am  sure  I  loved  him  even  then.  If  you  had 
told  me,  we  should  both  have  been  happy." 

Her  father  could  give  her  no  valid  reasons  for  his 
conduct ;  he  could  by  no  means  allege  the  real  one, 
so  he  took  refuge  in  tergiversation.  "  Much  that 


•_C»4  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

happened  in  those  times  is  now  vague  to  me,"  he 
said.  "  I  was  full  of  anxieties  and  cares  in  other 
ways.  I  suppose  I  could  not  have  attached  the  real 
importance  to  it.  I  had  long  thought  of  you  as  one 
who  knew  your  own  mind ;  and  if  Barclay  had  not 
made  his  feelings  clear  to  you,  it  did  not  seem  as  if 
any  formal  statement  by  me  could  have  much  effect. 
Surely  I  was  mistaken.  I  meant  to  act  for  the  best." 

He  followed  his  strenuous  disclaimers  of  wrong 
intent  with  warm  protestations  of  fatherly  affection 
which  came  from  a  full  and  agonized  heart.  Like 
Jephthah,  he  had  sacrificed  his  daughter.  Like  Jeph- 
thah,  he  might  have  said,  "  Alas,  my  daughter !  thou 
hast  deceived  me  and  art  thyself  deceived." 

Mrs.  Varemberg  now  gave  way  to  convulsive  weep- 
ing, in  which  her  resentment  disappeared.  Only  an 
overburdening  sense  of  the  sadness  of  her  lot  re- 
mained. She  went  broken  from  the  room,  her  father 
conducting  her  to  the  door,  and  pressing  a  kiss  upon 
her  cold  forehead. 

David  Lane  was  prepared  for  a  renewal  of  her 
petition  for  divorce.  He  did  not  know  how  he  could 
now  resist  it.  With  some  wretched  design,  perhaps, 
of  being  beforehand  with  her  in  it,  when  he  next  saw 
her,  he  introduced  the  subject  himself.  He  was  all 
but  completely  broken  at  this  time,  and  ready  to 
accede  to  anything  she  might  propose.  But,  curi- 
ously enough,  it  was  now  she  herself  who  stood  firm. 

"  No,"  she  said,  in  opposition ;  "  what  is  not  justi- 
fied by  natural  right  and  justice  cannot  be  justified 
by  my  poor  human  weakness." 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  255 

Her  father  was  proud  of  her  spirit  and  high  stand- 
ard of  conduct,  which  made  him  but  the  more  re- 
morseful and  compassionate  of  her  pains.  But  would 
she  always  remain  as  firm  on  this  point  ?  A  radical 
change  in  her  situation  almost  immediately  occurred, 
and  put  this  question  forever  aside.  Barclay  had 
been  gone  but  a  single  day,  when  the  mail  brought 
Mrs.  Varemberg  a  letter  in  a  familiar  handwriting. 
She  found  it  beside  her  plate  at  the  breakfast  table. 
It  was  post-marked  San  Francisco.  She  turned  pale 
at  sight  of  it,  and  did  not  dare  to  open  it  in  person, 
but  passed  it  on  to  her  father,  and  listened  to  hear 
what  he  should  tell  her  of  its  contents. 

"  My  poor  child  !  "  he  said,  glancing  sympatheti- 
cally across  at  her,  and  began  to  read.  The  letter 
was  substantially  as  follows  :  — 

"  I  find  myself  rather  unexpectedly  in  your  part 
of  the  world.  It  is  not  so  near,  it  is  true,  and  yet 
not  so  far  away,  either.  I  have  lately  arrived  here 
from  the  Sandwich  Islands.  The  climate  there  did 
not  suit  me,  and  there  were  various  disagreeable  ad- 
ventures —  But  all  that  is  a  long  story,  like  a  good 
deal  more  that  is  behind  me,  and  of  which  you  will, 
no  doubt,  be  glad  to  hear  in  due  time.  Finding  my- 
self thus  favored  in  my  whereabouts,  the  idea  occurs 
to  me  of  dropping  down  upon  you,  by  way  of  a  little 
surprise.  It  will  interest  me  to  see  the  pleasant  re- 
tirement to  which  you  betook  yourself  from  Bel- 
gium, —  without  the  formality  of  asking  my  permis- 
sion, be  it  remembered.  This  note  is  by  way  of 
announcement  that  I  shall  set  out  immediately  by 


256  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

rail,  and  I  trust  that  you  will  be  ready,  on  my  ar- 
rival, with  some  pleasant  proposition  for  settling  our 
late  small  differences,  and  again  establishing  for 
ourselves  the  customary  domestic  hearth.  Naturally, 
you  are  still  my  wife ;  I  have  not  relinquished  any 
claim  to  you.  I  tire  of  living  this  Bohemian  life  ; 
it  has  many  discomforts ;  and  I  have  no  doubt  that 
you  will  be  glad  to  join  with  me  in  the  plan  of  mak- 
ing of  ourselves  once  more  a  comfortable  pair  of 
bons  bourgeois.  I  am  sure  these  domestic  tastes  will 
commend  themselves  to  your  most  respectable  father, 
—  to  whom  please  convey  the  assurance  of  my  high 
consideration,  —  and  he  will  lend  us  a  trifle  of  pe- 
cuniary aid  to  carry  them  into  effect." 

The  letter  was  signed  by  Varemberg. 

"  It  is  infamous !  "  said  the  reader  of  it,  in  hot 
indignation.  "  He  dares  to  threaten  us  ?  He  will 
come  this  way  ?  But  do  not  fear  him,  Florence.  He 
shall  rue  the  day ;  he  shall  have  a  warm  reception 
awaiting  him." 

But  his  words  fell  upon  unconscious  ears  ;  she 
who  should  have  beard  them  had  fallen  into  a  piti- 
able swoon,  and  Mrs.  Clinton  and  the  maid  were 
actively  applying  restoratives. 

Nor  was  this  the  last  of  the  malign  intruder  from 
a  past  life.  On  the  contrary,  it  was  but  the  begin- 
ning of  a  speedy  end.  The  same  night,  a  loud  ring- 
ing aroused  the  house  some  time  after  it  had  retired 
to  slumber.  A  telegraphic  despatch  was  brought  in 
and  handed  up  to  David  Lane,  who  came  to  the  top 
of  the  stairs  to  receive  it.  The  servants  felt  sure 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  257 

that  the  master  of  the  house  had  received  bad  news. 
He  read  his  despatch  with  but  a  sombre  visage,  turned 
towards  Mrs.  Varemberg's  apartments,  turned  away 
again,  then  turned  back  once  more,  and  went  heavily 
and  knocked  at  his  daughter's  door. 

A  friend  and  neighbor,  from  Keewaydin,  had  in- 
formed him  further  of  a  fatal  railroad  accident,  al- 
ready briefly  mentioned  in  the  afternoon  papers.  An 
Eastern-bound  overland  train  had  been  precipitated 
down  a  lofty  embankment  near  Omaha,  through  the 
snapping  of  a  rail  in  the  severe  cold,  and  several 
lives  had  been  lost.  Among  the  dead  the  sender  of 
the  despatch  had  recognized  the  son-in-law  of  David 
Lane,  having  known  him  slightly  abroad,  and  had 
fully  identified  him  by  means  of  papers  found  on  the 
body. 

Thus  the  tragic  incubus  was  removed.  Varemberg 
was  no  more,  and  his  widow  was  free,  to  live,  to  mar- 
ry, as  she  pleased. 

Saved  as  she  was  from  the  very  spring  of  the  tiger, 
Mrs.  Varemberg  was  yet  afflicted  by  a  certain  re- 
morse, as  if  she  were  somehow  responsible  for  this 
dreadful  taking-off  of  the  ill-fated  partner  who  had 
been  her  nightmare  and  her  bane.  She  had  allowed 
her  thoughts  to  dwell,  though  never  so  remotely,  on 
this  consummation,  and  it  was  as  if  her  wish  had 
been  forged  into  a  weapon  with  which  the  deed  was 
done.  Broken  by  so  many  shocks,  she  succumbed  to 
an  acute  illness.  During  its  continuance  she  was  by 
no  means  in  a  condition  to  communicate  with  Barclay, 


258  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

had  she  so  desired.  Added  to  this,  it  would  have 
been  extremely  difficult  for  any  one  to  say,  in  this 
his  first  impetuous  plunge  away  from  all  the  inter- 
ests by  which  he  had  so  long  been  bound,  where  he 
was. 


XII. 

THE  "  PEOPLE'S  CANDIDATE." 

PAUL  BARCLAY  had  formed  no  definite  programme 
for  his  flight  or  his  future.  In  seeking  first  the  re- 
mote colony  on  his  wild  lands  in  the  upper  part  of 
the  State,  he  but  obeyed  the  instinct  that  so  often 
drives  the  unhappy  to  the  refuge  of  solitude  and  na- 
ture. 

His  colony  now  presented  to  view  a  number  of  log 
houses  and  a  considerable  space  of  cleared  land.  The 
shriek  of  a  portable  saw-mill  rose  upon  the  ear,  to- 
gether with  the  dull  thud  of  fthe  woodman's  axe ;  and 
the  stumps  of  the  felled  pine-trees,  scattered  numer- 
ously in  and  about  the  new  settlement,  showed 
through  the  snow  —  which  still  lay  deep  on  the 
ground  in  this  northerly  latitude  —  like  a  species  of 
envious  fangs,  snarling  at  the  growth  of  this  humble 
little  Carthage. 

Barclay  remained  at  this  lonely  spot  nearly  a  fort- 
night. In  his  fierce  need  of  action  and  change,  he 
took  the  axe  into  his  own  hands,  and  smote  ringing 
strokes  upon  the  great  trees.  Again,  with  his  gun, 
he  followed  large  wild  game  through  the  forest  long 
days  together,  till,  at  night,  he  was  ready  to  drop 
with  fatigue,  and  was  incapable  of  thought. 

The  sociable  agent  of  the  colony  tried  his  best  to 


260  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

entertain  him,  but  his  resources  were  few.  He 
brought  home  some  newspapers,  from  long  rides  he 
took  to  the  nearest  hamlet,  and  read  out  bits  of  these 
in  the  evening.  Politics  were  beginning  to  be  inter- 
esting. The  municipal  caldron  at  Keewaydin  was 
bubbling  actively,  and  nominations  for  mayor  were 
in  order.  Barclay  had  little  concern  with  all  these 
things.  But,  among  the  rest,  as  they  sat  around  the 
stove  one  evening,  in  the  rude  main  cabin,  just  be- 
fore their  usual  primitive  hour  for  bed,  the  agent  hit 
upon  a  bit  about  the  railway  accident  and  the  fate  of 
Varemberg. 

"  Tough  times  for  travelers,  these  days,"  said  he, 
"  the  cold  spells  snappin'  the  rails  so.  I  see  that  for- 
eign son-in-law  of  David  Lane's  is  dead ;  killed  out 
Omaha  way." 

Then,  indeed,  his  listener  paid  attention.  He 
bounded  to  his  feet,  and  seized  the  paper  with  his  own 
hands.  Yes,  it  was  so.  Varemberg  was  dead  !  She 
was  free  !  But  the  date  of  the  paper  was  almost  ten 
days  back.  Why  had  he  not  heard  from  her?  Why 
had  she  not  sent  to  him  in  all  this  time?  How  could 
she  ?  Had  he  not  purposely  buried  himself  in  these 
inaccessible  wilds  ? 

Night  though  it  was,  the  best  horse  of  the  camp 
was  got  out,  and  he  had  himself  driven  off  on  the 
instant.  He  made  a  railway  connection  at  daybreak, 
and  by  night  of  the  next  day  was  again  in  Keeway- 
din. 

The  dress  of  Mrs.  Varemberg  confirmed  the  truth 
of  the  news  he  had  heard.  She  was  in  mourning  of 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  261 

the  lighter  sort,  following  in  a  purely  formal  way  the 
conventional  customs  made  and  provided.  She  had 
recovered  from  her  illness,  but  was  still  weighed  upon 
by  the  effects  of  it  and  the  experiences  she  had  passed 
through.  She  was  grave,  undemonstrative,  not  like 
her  former  self.  She  gave  the  full  details  of  the 
catastrophe.  She  said  her  father  had  been  in  person 
to  Omaha,  found  the  remains  of  her  husband,  given 
them  decent  burial,  forwarded  his  papers  to  his  sur- 
viving relatives  in  Europe,  and  offered,  by  <;able,  to 
hold  himself  at  their  disposition  for  any  further 
orders.  All  was  absolutely  over  wellnigh  a  week 
before. 

"  And  now !  now !  now  !  "  exclaimed  Barclay  joy- 
ously, when  he  thought  he  had  listened  to  sufficient 
on  this  subject. 

His  reference  to  their  last  meeting  and  all  that  it 
implied  was  unmistakable,  but  Mrs.  Varemberg  did 
not  yet  respond  to  his  ardor.  She  had  fallen,  in  fact, 
into  a  pensive  and  morbid  condition,  in  which  she 
thought  the  planning  of  any  attractive  manner  of  life 
for  herself  henceforth  all  but  criminal. 

"  You  did  not  send  for  me  ?  You  did  not  wish  to 
have  me  with  you  at  once  ?  "  said  her  lover,  in  re- 
proachful questioning. 

"  I  did  not  know  where  you  were.  I  knew  that 
you  would  hear." 

"  You  have  changed.  What  is  this  ?  I  do  not  un- 
derstand you." 

"  I  cannot  pretend  to  feel  any  sorrow  for  him,  — 
that  would  be  too  much,  —  but  his  dreadful  fate 


262  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

shocked  me  so  that  it  seemed  to  leave  no  place  for 
other  and  softer  feelings.  It  seems  as  if  1  had  done 
it.  Oh,"  she  broke  out,  "  after  all  that  has  happened, 
with  such  memories  behind  us,  is  it  not  too  late? 
Can  there  be  any  happy  future  possible  to  one  so 
wretched  as  I  ?  No,  no,  let  us  abandon  the  thought 
of  it." 

Barclay  hastened  to  combat  these  gloomy  views 
with  all  his  might.  "The  future  is  wholly  ours; 
with  it  we  will  redeem  the  past,"  he  protested,  vigor- 
ously. "  Oh,  think  of  all  we  may  yet  do  !  " 

"  Think  of  all  we  must  both  remember ! " 

"  In  the  olden  times,"  he  argued,  "  beautiful  tem- 
ples were  thrown  down,  and  their  fragments  incor- 
porated into  other  buildings.  We  have  a  record  of 
one  mediaeval  cathedral  built  upon  a  foundation  en- 
tirely of  lovely  broken  statues.  From  such  a  seed, 
as  it  were,  could  hardly  fail  to  spring  perfections  of  a 
new  order.  Let  us  try  to  regard  our  lives  hereafter 
as  something  like  that,  but  the  more  valuable  and  the 
sweeter  for  the  weird  hopes,  the  lost  illusions,  that 
underlie  them." 

The  warmth  of  his  convictions  gradually  impressed 
itself  upon  her,  and  kindled  her  own  anew. 

"  Our  union  must  not  be  delayed  beyond  the  ear- 
liest feasible  moment,"  he  urged.  "  We  must  con- 
cede only  the  most  imperative  delays.  We  have  so 
little  time  now  in  which  to  be  happy,  and  we  must 
not  lose  a  moment  of  it." 

The  two  arrived  at  a  complete  understanding,  and 
then  they  wished  to  have  the  consent  of  David  Lane 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  263 

to  their  formal  engagement.  It  was  not  necessarily 
to  be  made  public  till  a  decorous  period  of  mourning 
had  passed.  Mrs.  Varemberg  was  willing  to  make 
this  concession  to  what  popular  opinion  was  assumed 
to  be,  though  she  had  in  very  truth  been  widowed 
several  years  ;  but  on  all  other  accounts,  the  peace  of 
mind  of  both,  the  comfort  of  Barclay  in  his  footing 
in  the  house,  it  was  desirable  that  in  the  eyes  of 
David  Lane  they  should  be  finally  and  once  for  all 
betrothed.  As  soon  as  was  convenient  and  seemly, 
therefore,  they  presented  themselves  before  him  for 
that  purpose. 

That  unhappy  man  had  expected  such  a  visit  from 
the  moment  of  the  arrival  of  the  telegram  acquaint- 
ing him  with  Varemberg's  fate  ;  he  was  alive  to  its 
importance,  and  in  a  measure  prepared  to  meet  it. 
Though  driven  so  near  to  the  wall,  he  proposed  to 
resist  his  perverse  fate  to  the  last.  Even  now,  could 
he  see  this  couple  united  ?  Nothing  had  changed  in 
the  main  situation,  —  his  motive  power  for  so  many 
years.  Was  it  not  for  their  own  sakes  he  had  op- 
posed and  must  still  oppose  them  ?  His  horror  of 
their  union  rested  upon  the  dread  that  his  confession 
must  one  day  come  down  from  the  Golden  Justice, 
and  ruin  them  all.  Could  any  one  have  assured  him 
of  the  folly  of  this  foreboding,  they  might  have  mar- 
ried and  welcome,  the  sooner  the  better,  —  for  it  had 
often  wrung  his  heart  to  see  them  suffer.  But  who 
could  assure  him  of  this  ?  The  thought  was  his  con- 
stant companion,  the  source  of  his  never-ending  men- 
tal turmoil.  He  met  the  applicants,  therefore,  with  a 
grave  front  of  firm  denial. 


264  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

"Do  you  think  I  will  let  my  daughter  go?"  he 
said,  in  the  course  of  talk,  turning  directly  towards 
Barclay.  "  Do  you  ask  me  to  give  up  my  only  real 
companion,  the  mainstay  of  my  declining  years  ?  " 

"  But  we  need  not  go,  papa,"  appealed  his  daugh- 
ter, answering  in  person.  "  "We  will  both  stay  with 
you,  if  you  desire  it.  You  will  only  have  two  chil- 
dren instead  of  one." 

The  pair  were  astonished,  discomfited,  at  a  refusal 
they  had  had  no  reason  to  expect.  The  discussion 
grew  almost  acrimonious.  Barclay  withdrew.  He  felt 
that,  for  his  own  part,  he  could  no  longer  continue 
in  it  with  dignity.  Mrs.  Varemberg  remained,  and 
prosecuted  the  argument  further.  David  Lane  was 
quibbling,  evasive,  and  morose.  Driven  from  one 
position  to  another,  he  began  to  take  on  a  much-bad- 
gered, hunted  sort  of  manner.  He  called  the  propo- 
sition to  which  they  had  desired  to  obtain  his  consent 
one  showing  unseemly,  almost  indecent,  haste. 

His  daughter,  looking  at  him,  wondering,  with  her 
large,  grave  eyes,  demanded,  — 

"  Tell  me  your  real  reasons  for  opposing  us  !  " 

But  he  was  still  elusive.  "  I  am  not  convinced  that 
you  really  love  him,"  he  said.  "  Most  likely  it  is 
only  a  matter  of  passing  association  and  habit.  You 
have  injudiciously  allowed  him  to  come  here  too 
much  ;  you  have  seen  no  one  else.  But  now  that  you 
are  going  out  into  the  world  again,  you  will  meet  with 
others  ;  you  will  find  some  one  "  — 

His  listener  stopped  him  short,  indignant,  and 
keenly  hurt  that  the  sincerity  of  her  love  could  be 
questioned. 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  265 

"  I  love  him  devotedly,"  she  said ;  "  he  has  every 
quality  to  win  the  admiration  and  esteem  of  a  woman. 
After  all  that  I  have  told  you,  do  not  still  try  to  treat 
me  like  a  child.  If  I  do  not  marry  him,  I  shall  never 
marry  at  all."  * 

"  Well,  then,  I  see  my  way  clearly.  I  cannot  con- 
sent," he  answered  doggedly,  as  if  returning  his  ulti- 
matum. "  All  this  is  for  your  own  good,  if  you  did 
but  know  it." 

"  Then  we  must  act  without  your  consent.  We  are 
of  an  age  to  regulate  our  own  affairs." 

"  Florence  ! "  he  appealed,  pathetically. 

"  Give  me  some  reasons  for  this  most  extraordinary 
conduct.  I  am  willing  to  hear  and  overcome  them 
all." 

"  Let  me  think.  Give  me  time  to  think,"  he  re- 
joined. "  We  will  return  to  this  subject  again." 

He  dashed  his  hand  across  his  forehead  in  a  dis- 
tracted way,  and  left  the  house. 

No  sooner  was  he  without  than  he  directed  his 
steps  in  search  of  Ives  Wilson,  and  found  the  editor 
at  the  latter's  office  in  the  building  of  the  Morning 
Index. 

"  I  wish  to  be  mayor,"  said  Lane,  entering  ab- 
ruptly, and  broaching  the  subject  with  hardly  more 
ado. 

The  editor  of  the  Index  was  proof  against  many 
surprises,  but  this  was  beyond  him.  A  proposition  so 
considerably  outside  of  his  usual  category  took  away 
his  breath. 

"  The  place  has  already  been  promised  to  DeBow; 


266  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

he  is  as  good  as  elected,"  he  urged,  deprecatingly,  in 
order  to  gain  time  to  collect  his  scattered  ideas. 

"  I  wish  to  be  mayor,"  repeated  his  patron  and 
benefactor.  "  Let  us  understand  that  positively,  — 
that  is  settled ;  let  us  talk  only  of  how  it  is  to  be 
done." 

"  We  might  sow  discord  in  the  nominating  conven- 
tions, I  suppose,  and  organize  a  bolt,"  said  the  editor, 
with  the  air  of  bending  his  whole  mind  to  the  prob- 
lem, since  to  dismiss  it  was  impossible.  "  I  have  it," 
he  added,  presently.  "  What  do  you  say  to  a  Peo- 
ple's Candidate  ?  " 

"  A  '  People's  Candidate  '  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  we  can  thunder  against  the  '  rings,'  corrup- 
tion in  municipal  affairs,  and  the  like.  We  can  call 
for  a  cleaning  out  of  the  Augean  stables,  and  the 
uniting  of  all  good  citizens,  without  distinction  of 
party,  upon  a  reform  nominee,  a  citizen  of  high  char- 
acter, like  yourself.  We  might  make  it  appear  that 
the  movement  had  been  a  long  time  maturing." 

"  Good  ! "  assented  David  Lane.  "  Let  it  be  that 
or  whatever  else  you  like,  so  that  the  object  is  surely 
accomplished." 

He  attended  but  little  to  the  vein  of  cynical  humor 
in  which  the  other  outlined  his  plan. 

'*  Expenses,  no  doubt,  will  be  heavier  than  usual, 
but  you  shall  have  an  ample  margin.  Do  not  hold 
back  from  anything  that  may  be  necessary,  on  that 
account." 

"  It  is  gratifying  to  see  you  again  in  the  political 
field."  said  Ives  Wilson,  "  but  I  confess  I  don't  quite 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  267 

understand  it  on  the  instant.  At  one  time,  we  used 
to  beg  and  implore  you  to  take  much  more  important 
offices  than  this,  and  you  would  not  do  it ;  and  now, 
after  'all  the  high  honors  you  have  held,  you  seek  a 
smaller  one  of  your  own  accord." 

"  I  am  tired  of  rusting  out  in  idleness.  I  want 
occupation." 

This  was  all  the  explanation  ever  vouchsafed ;  and 
it  really  mattered  very  little  to  this  adviser  what  the 
true  reason  was,  since  it  was  made  to  his  advantage. 
But  had  he  guessed  for  a  thousand  years  he  would 
never  have  hit  upon  it.  He  would  never  have  di- 
vined the  wild,  extraordinary  resource  that  remained 
to  David  Lane,  in  taking  the  office  of  mayor,  —  a  re- 
source which  he  was  at  last  driven  to  use  by  the  sight 
of  his  daughter's  distress  and  the  sound  of  her  re- 
proaches in  his  ears. 

There  had  always  been  a  bare  possibility  that  the 
confession  might  be  recovered  from  the  Golden  Jus- 
tice, and  David  Lane  had  sometimes  revolved  it 
dimly,  with  other  vagrant  thoughts  on  the  subject. 
But  by  what  agency  could  it  be  done?  It  was  a 
mission  too  delicate  to  entrust  to  the  most  confiden- 
tial employee  in  the  world.  To  so  entrust  it  would 
be  but  to  subject  one's  self  to  blackmail,  with  the 
certainty  of  the  ultimate  disclosure  of  the  secret  be- 
sides. No,  none  but  himself  must  touch  the  paper. 
If  he  could  pass  a  night  in  the  building,  he  might, 
under  cover  of  darkness,  climb  to  the  dome,  and, 
with  good  fortune,  effect  an  opening  into  the  statue 
and  possess  himself  of  the  confession.  Now,  he  could 


268  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

not  conceal  himself  in  the  edifice,  nor  could  he  ask 
permission  to  remain.  He  must  have  the  right  to 
stay  unquestioned.  But  who  had  the  right  to  stay? 
In  the  first  place,  the  janitor,  an  honest  German.  An- 
ton Klopp,  who  had  long  held  this  post.  Next,  the 
city  officers,  —  mayor,  comptroller,  city  clerk,  and 
the  like.  The  only  one  of  these  positions  he  could 
allow  himself  to  seek  and  fill  without  too  strong  ec- 
centricity and  suspicion  was  that  of  mayor. 

"We  have  seen  that  he  had  taken  steps  to  be  made 
once  more  mayor  of  Keewaydin.  "Would  he,  then, 
with  all  his  honors,  his  years,  and  infirmities  heavy 
upon  him,  attempt  in  person  so  wild  and  hazardous 
an  undertaking  as  that  hinted  at  ?  "With  his  hands 
by  his  sides  he  had  felt  the  muscles  of  his  legs,  as  he 
came  along  to  the  interview  with  the  editor,  tested 
them  again  by  long  strides,  and  nerved  himself  for 
the  feat  with  Spartan  determination. 

There  was  no  time  to  lose.  Ives  Wilson,  a  Mach- 
.iavellian  wire-puller  of  great  vigor,  initiated  the  cam- 
paign forthwith.  The  Index  began  at  once  to  con- 
tain letters,  —  written  in  the  office,  be  it  understood, 
—  signed  "  Many  Tax-Payers,"  "  Many  Citizens," 
"  Veritas,"  and  "  Justitia,"  demanding  that  the  Au- 
gean stables  be  cleaned  out  and  the  era  of  corruption 
be  brought  to  its  close;  that  the  party  slates  be 
broken,  and  a  man  of  conspicuous  probity  be  placed 
in  the  field.  A  People's  Candidate  was  called  for, 
and  the  name  of  David  Lane  suggested.  The  editor 

affected  to  think  it  no  more  than  fair  to  give  these 

> 
indications  of  popular  ferment  the  courtesy  of  print. 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  269 

The  clamor  —  in  the  office  of  the  Index  —  in- 
creased, till  it  seemed  impossible  to  resist.  Then  the 
paper  took  the  air  of  putting  itself  formally  at  its 
head.  Ives  Wilson  now  privately  convened  a  little 
knot  of  skillful  persons,  with  whom  he  had  been 
much  in  the  habit  of  working  in  matters  of  this  de- 
scription ;  these  communicated  the  impetus  to  a 
larger  coterie,  and  this  to  others  in  turn,  so  that  pres- 
ently the  ward  primaries  were  feeling  the  influence 
profoundly.  The  "  slate "  was  not  broken,  in  the 
convention  of  the  principal  party,  as  had  been  pro- 
posed ;  the  new  movement  had  begun  too  late  to  be 
able  to  capture  the  nomination  from  DeBow ;  but 
David  Lane's  followers  organized  a  bolt.  They  went 
to  the  weaker  political  faction,  which,  being  already 
prepared  for  defeat  any  way,  was  found  only  too 
glad  to  strike  hands  with  the  bolters,  and  make  Lane 
the  nominee  of  both,  on  a  fusion  ticket. 

Some  of  his  old  associates  came  to  him  regret- 
fully, and  urged  him  not  to  allow  himself  to  be  used 
as  an  instrument  for  disrupting  the  party  with  which 
they  had  together  so  long  been  identified.  But  they 
little  knew  how  slight  a  matter  party  fealty  had  now 
become  to  him  they  addressed,  under  the  stimulus  of 
his  new  motives. 

"  I  have  put  myself  in  the  hands  of  my  friends," 
he  responded,  with  artful  dissimulation.  "  I  should 
not  now  consider  it  fair  to  them  to  withdraw,  with- 
out their  express  command." 

When  all  this  was  settled,  he  returned  to  the  mo- 
mentous subject  which  had  come  up  between  him 
and  his  daughter. 


270  TllE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

"  I  am  tired  of  rusting  in  idleness,"  he  said.  "  If 
there  is  a  possibility  of  losing  you,  I  must  have  new 
occupations.  I  am  going  to  run  for  mayor.  Let  the 
matter  of  which  you  have  spoken  to  me  stand  till 
that  is  over." 

"But  I  cannot  see  the  slightest  connection  be- 
tween  the  two." 

"  Leave  it  to  me.  You  will  find  me  reasonable. 
Success  brings  good  temper,"  he  rejoined  ;  and  when 
she  still  urged  her  point,  he  added,  positively,  "I 
will  not  decide  till  the  election  is  over." 

Still,  this  was  something  tangible  to  tell.  The 
period  of  delay  would  not  be  long.  Mrs.  Varemberg 
reported  it  to  her  impatient  lover,  and  they  were  fain 
to  wait,  possessing  their  souls  in  comparative  pa- 
tience. 

A  large  store  that  happened  to  be  vacant  in  Tel- 
son's  Block,  on  the  principal  thoroughfare,  was  taken 
for  David  Lane's  headquarters,  and  a  canvas  banner, 
with  the  usual  atrocious  portrait  of  the  candidate, 
was  hung  across  the  street,  in  front  of  it.  From  this 
nucleus  a  great  activity  was  organized.  Printed  cir- 
culars and  free  editions  of  the  Index  were  mailed  in 
profusion.  There  were  kept  in  stock  the  flaming 
yellow  and  pink  sheet  posters  for  the  fences  and 
dead-walls.  A  great  wagon,  papered  with  these  same 
sheet  posters,  and  containing  a  deep-toned  bell,  pa- 
trolled the  streets  by  day,  distributing  documents, 
and  made  the  campaign  headquarters  its  rendezvous. 
From  there,  also,  torchlight  processions  were  sent 
forth  at  night.  The  managers,  with  hats  tilted  very 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  271 

much  backward  or  very  much  forward,  as  the  case 
might  be,  sat  around  a  long  table  covered  with  an 
untidy  litter  of  papers,  —  as  was  the  floor,  with  cigar 
stumps  added,  —  or  anon  received  visitors  confiden- 
tially in  small  boxes,  temporarily  partitioned  off  with 
pine  boards,  at  the  rear. 

Here  maps  were  spread  open,  and  the  sectional  in- 
terests of  the  town  studied,  district  by  district;  What 
motives  might  be  best  appealed  to  ?  What  springs 
of  tradition,  habit,  self-interest,  local  pride  or  preju- 
dice, caste  or  nationality,  might  be  played  upon  — 
as  the  musician  plays  upon  his  instrument  —  to  catch 
votes  ? 

One  ward  was  well  to  do  and  "aristocratic,"  and 
another  composed  largely  of  small  mechanics ;  one 
was  German,  another  Polish ;  one  had  a  large  free- 
thinking  element  clustered  around  the  turner-halls, 
another  was  Lutheran,  another  Irish  Catholic. 

"  Shall  we  stir  up  the  religious  question  again  ?  " 
demanded  Ives  Wilson,  with  a  cheerful  nonchalance, 
in  these  consultations.  On  the  whole,  it  was  decided 
to  do  so.  "  We  have  more  to  gain  than  lose  by  it," 
he  said. 

Some  old  "  Know  Nothing "  record,  as  it  was 
called,  of  Jim  DeBow's  was  unearthed.  He  was  as- 
serted to  have  been  hostile  to  immigration  at  an  early 
day,  and  to  have  said  in  public  that  he  wished  an 
ocean  of  fire  rolled  between  us  and  all  Europe,  that 
foreigners  might  be  kept  out.  He  was  said  to  have 
made  remarks  —  a  propos  of  a  request  for  a  subscrip- 
tion to  a  church  fair  —  insulting  to  the  religious 
opinions  of  a  large  and  worthy  section  of  voters. 


272  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

In  every  ingenious  wsty,  in  short,  Ives  Wilson  ex- 
emplified, in  the  Index,  what  he  had  meant  by  his 
principle  of  hitting  hard.  DeBow's  party,  on  the 
other  hand,  were  no  novices  in  tactics  of  this  kind, 
and  they  returned  the  onslaught  with  interest.  It 
was  made  a  reproach  to  David  Lane,  at  one  and  the 
same  time,  that  he  was  a  drunkard,  hecause  he  had 
wine  on  his  table,  and  a  "  temperance  fanatic,"  inas- 
much as  he  had  at  one  time  signed  a  request  for 
some  sort  of  limited  restriction  of  the  number  of  sa- 
loons and  the  demoralizing  sale  of  liquor.  For  his 
injury  with  the  proletariat,  he  was  shown  to  be  a 
monopolist ;  was  charged,  since  his  residence  abroad, 
with  foreign  ideas,  and  with  entertaining  aggrandiz- 
ing designs  against  the  liberties  of  the  place  which 
could  scarcely  have  been  carried  out  by  any  other 
than  a  Russian  despot,  at  the  head  of  all  his  legions. 

In  this  campaign,  too,  the  early  marriage  of  James 
DeBow  below  his  station  was,  oddly  enough,  sought 
to  be  turned  to  account.  It  was  suggested  in  some 
artful,  demagogical  way  that  this  marriage  had  been 
deliberately  contracted  with  the  express  desire  of  al- 
lying himself  the  more  thoroughly  with  the  great, 
warm  democratic  heart  of  the  people. 

So  the  fray  raged  ;  sophistries,  criminations,  and 
recriminations  filled  the  air,  and  the  preliminary  pa- 
pers in  numerous  libel  suits  were  served. 

The  managers  no  doubt  laughed  in  their  sleeves, 
like  the  augurs  of  old,  at  the  credulity  they  utilized, 
the  passions  they  fomented ;  while  the  masses,  poor 
souls,  wrangled,  fought,  and  vituperated,  sowing  seeds 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  273 

of  bitterness  that  would  not  be  extirpated  till  a  bet- 
ter education  should  show  their  descendants  the  flim- 
siuess  of  the  means  by  which  they  had  been  duped. 
The  Golden  Justice  —  for  she  was  at  the  bottom 
of  all  this,  like  Bellona,  the  goddess  of  discord,  in- 
stead of  the  symbol  of  rectitude  and  peace  —  be- 
came once  more  the  cause  of  a  violent  municipal 
upheaval.  The  stir  extended  afar,  to  the  august 
Senate  at  Washington,  and  might  even  alter  the  des- 
tinies of  the  nation  ;  for  it  so  happened  that  if  Ross- 
more —  whose  election  depended  upon  that  of  James 
DeBow  —  were  not  returned,  the  balance  of  power 
in  the  Senate  would  be  changed,  and  the  complexion 
of  several  measures  of  leading  importance  altered. 

Paul  Barclay,  having  such  a  vital  issue  depending 
upon  it,  was  naturally  very  keenly  alive  to  Lane's 
success  in  the  contest.  He  now  confronted  political 
life,  for  the  first  time,  in  a  personal  way  and  at  close 
quarters.  As  a  student  of  republican  institutions,  he 
saw  much  to  shock  the  fastidious  and  make  the  judi- 
cious grieve.  During  the  campaign  he  continued  to 
see  Mrs.  Varemberg  more  or  less  frequently,  but  al- 
ways under  the  shadow  of  the  restraint  and  opposi- 
tion that  hampered  them.  His  visits  galled  David 
Lane.  Perhaps  they  even  goaded  him  on,  with  the 
view  of  insuring  absolute  success  in  his  project,  to 
measures  to  which  he  might  not  otherwise  have  been 
driven.  Ives  Wilson  aimed  to  lose  no  point  that  in- 
defatigable effort  could  secure  him ;  but  perhaps  it  is 
only  fair  to  suppose  that  the  candidate  did  not  know 
all  that  was  done  in  his  name. 


274  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

David  Lane's  uame  headed  a  call  to  the  Hon.  Franz 
Hofnagel,  of  Minnesota,  to  fix  a  day  when  he  would 
deliver  his  famous  address  on  the  German  Father- 
land, and  another  asking  the  eloquent  Father  Finne- 
gan  for  his  oration  on  Hibernian  Saints  and  Heroes. 
Subscriptions  were  made  to  worthy  objects,  goods  not 
at  all  needed  were  bought  of  deserving  tradesmen, 
and  small  sums  of  money  were  loaned,  or  otherwise 
judiciously  placed,  where  they  would  do  the  most 
good. 

Barclay  had  set  the  considerable  force  of  men  re- 
maining under  his  orders,  by  way  of  keeping  them 
in  occupation,  to  clearing  up  the  debris  at  Barclay's 
Island,  and  otherwise  putting  it  to  rights.  It  began 
to  look  as  though  the  burned  factory  might  yet  be  re- 
placed by  a  new  and  more  imposing  one.  Ives  Wil- 
son took  occasion  to  apprise  him,  one  day,  that  a 
number  of  these  men,  unless  prevented,  were  going 
to  vote  for  Jim  DeBow,  with  whose  party  all  their 
affiliations  lay. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  about  it  ?  "  Wilson 
asked. 

"  I  had  not  thought  of  doing  anything.  What  do 
you  advise  ?  " 

"  I  would  have  a  special  run  of  work  on  election 
day  for  that  particular  class  of  men.  I  would  ask 
them  to  stay  home  from  voting  and  help  me  out. 
They  could  do  that  much,  any  way ;  it 's  a  mighty 
poor  hand  that  won't  help  his  employer  over  a  tight 
pinch  now  and  then.  If  there  were  any  that  did  n't 
want  to  do  it,  I  'd  let  it  get  gently  insinuated  into 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  275 

their  minds,  somehow,  that  their  services  would  be 
dispensed  with  altogether  at  the  earliest  opportunity." 

There  was  an  element  of  the  amusing  in  this,  as  in 
most  else  that  Ives  Wilson  did.  He  passed  in  such 
a  light,  airy,  birdlike  way  over  all  things,  both  good 
and  evil,  that  it  was  difficult  to  attribute  iniquity  to 
him,  even  when  most  perverse ;  it  was  almost  as  if  he 
belonged  to  some  different  and  less  responsible  order 
of  beings. 

"  But  see  here,  Wilson,"  said  Barclay,  "  there 's  an 
original  bent  of  mental  and  moral  obliquity  about  you 
that  I  have  often  noticed,  and  I  won't  say  that  it  is 
not  at  times  quite  entertaining;  but,  once  for  all, 
leave  me  out  of  your  crooked  propositions.  I  've  had 
enough  of  them.  You  've  favored  me  with  a  good 
deal  too  much  of  them,  in  fact." 

"  Oh !  "  said  Wilson,  slightly  sobered. 

"  Do  you  want  to  know  what  my  individual  opin- 
ion about  these  matters  is  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  my  dear  fellow,  —  certainly." 

"  Well,  it  is  this  :  considering  that  the  suffrage  is 
the  only  safeguard  of  the  society  in  which  we  live, 
and  that  without  it  no  redress  of  the  most  heinous 
evils  is  possible,  those  who  tamper  with  it  are  the 
greatest  rascals  in  the  entire  category,  and  their  of- 
fense ought  to  be  visited  with  the  severest  penalties 
known  to  the  law,  —  which  ought,  indeed,  to  enact 
new  ones  for  their  especial  benefit." 

"  But,  see  here,"  said  the  editor,  in  his  turn,  "  I 
thought  you  were  on  David  Lane's  side  in  this  mat- 
ter." 


270  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

"I  am."  and  he  half  muttered  to  himself,  thinking 
of  the  white  arras  that  awaited  him,  as  the  prize  of 
victory.  "  You  would  hardly  doubt  it  if  you  knew 
what  I  had  at  stake."  He  went  on,  "  But  my  men 
are  going  to  vote  as  they  please,  for  all  that." 

"  My  dear  boy,"  Wilson  concluded,  reserving  his 
imperturbable  good  -  nature,  —  "  my  dear  boy,  of 
course  one  would  not  do  anything  off-color,  to  aid 
what  he  positively  knew  to  be  wrong ;  but  where 
the  cause  is  a  good  one.  like  this,  where  it 's  a  cause 
that  ought  to  prevail  any  way,  why,  that  makes  it  a 
very  different  thing,  don't  yon  see  ?  '  Use  all  the 
weapons  at  your  hand  !  Fight  the  devil  with  fire ! ' 
say  I.  Besides,  voters,  like  readers,  ought  to  be  in- 
fluenced :  they  expect  it ;  they  require  it ;  they  don't 
understand  anything  else." 

Ives  "Wilson  thought  so  well  of  this  episode  that  he 
took  occasion  to  report  it  to  his  principal,  David  Lane, 
setting  it  forth  as  the  fantastic  notions  of  a  novice  in 
politics,  and  "one  of  the  humors  of  the  campaign." 

The  voters  referred  to  were  saved  to  David  Lane, 
however,  by  a  different  means.  All  at  once  a  com- 
mittee, very  rough  and  ready  in  appearance,  com- 
prising the  sardonic  Hoolan  among  its  numbers,  waited 
upon  Barclay,  and  tendered  him  a  nomination  for  al- 
derman. The  regular  nominee  for  the  district  had 
been  discovered  at  the  last  moment  to  be  ineligible 
by  reason  of  having  neglected  to  take  out  his  full 
naturalization  papers.  A  semi-official  meeting  had 
been  held,  largely  influenced,  it  afterwards  appeared, 
by  Barclay's  own  workingmen ;  his  name  had  been 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE,  277 

broached  in  this  meeting,  and  acclaimed  with  enthu- 
siasm, and  a  duly  appointed  committee  came  to  offer 
him  the  candidacy.  Barclay  was  astonished  at  the 
unexpected  honor.  He  wavered,  deliberated,  took 
time  for  his  answer.  He  found  himself  brought  face 
to  face  with  the  first  step  in  what  might  be  the  en- 
lightened political  career  of  which  he  had  once 
thought.  A  position  as  alderman  must  certainly 
give  him  experience  of  an  intimate  practical  sort, 
that  would  prove  useful  as  he  went  farther  on. 
There  could  be  little  doubt,  too,  that  he  could  find 
useful  measures  enough  with  which  to  occupy  himself 
during  his  actual  term  of  service,  if  he  should  stay ; 
and  if  he  should  not  stay,  —  well,  one  can  always 
resign.  It  gave  him  a  sort  of  modest  thrill  that  the 
office  —  still  an  honorable  one  in  a  community  not 
yet  greatly  corrupted  —  had  sought  him  without  the 
slightest  intimation  on  his  part  that  he  had  desired 
political  preferment.  On  the  expiration  of  the  hour 
he  had  reserved  to  make  his  decision,  he  returned 
his  acknowledgments  to  the  honest  committee,  de- 
clared himself  greatly  flattered  at  this  manifestation 
of  their  favor,  and  accepted  their  nomination.  Once 
"  the  young  boss,"  as  they  called  him,  was  in  the  field, 
his  men  identified  themselves  warmly  with  his  whole 
campaign,  and  no  solicitation  was  needed  to  obtain 
their  support  for  any  interests  he  was  known  to 
favor. 

As  soon  as  he  was  put  in  nomination,  he  began  to 
be  besieged,  in  the  usual  way,  by  that  horde  of  good- 
for-nothings,  political  "  strikers  "  of  one  sort  and  an- 


278  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

other,  who  seek  their  profit  from  aspirants  for  office. 
Keepers  of  small  saloons  desired  funds,  as  they  said, 
to  distribute  among  their  respective  clienteles.  A 
foreign-looking  man,  calling  himself  a  professor  of 
music,  declared  himself  possessed  of  such  potent  in- 
fluence among  his  fellow-countrymen  that  he  had  but 
to  hand  them  a  certain  ticket  to  have  it  voted  with- 
out question.  He  was  willing,  for  a  consideration,  to 
hand  them  the  tickets  of  Barclay.  Some  members  of 
the  Twilight  Social  Club  asserted  that  the  club  meant 
to  vote  "  the  right  ticket "  in  any  event,  but  were 
certain  it  could  not  be  brought  out  to  anything  like 
a  full  strength  without  funds.  Two  separate  individ- 
uals, each  on  his  own  account,  offered  to  dicker  for 
the  entire  vote  of  a  populous  mechanics'  boarding- 
house.  A  hand-to-hand  conflict  wellnigh  arose  be- 
tween the  two  men,  who  had  inadvertently  happened 
in  at  the  same  time.  The  right  to  dispose  of  their 
pretended  merchandise  was  first  claimed  by  a  small, 
puny  man,  whose  name,  it  appeared,  was  7%-omas 
Madigan,  and  who  was  the  keeper  in  person  of  the 
boarding-house.  But  this  claim  was  fiercely  contested 
by  a  burly,  unshaven  Dennis  Tully,  who  was,  or  had 
been,  an  assistant  of  his. 

"It's  me  as  the  place  belongs  to.  Who  else  but 
me  cud  put  them  boys  to  work  ?  "  protested  Madigan, 
plaintively.  "  Who  else  but  me  wud  have  the  \nflu- 
ence  ?  " 

"He's  a  greenhorn,  so  he  is,"  explained  Tully 
contemptuously.  "  It  was  me  learned  him  the  board- 
in'-house  business.  Nobody  can  put  them  boys  to 
work  but  me." 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  279 

But  Barclay  sent  all  these  to  the  right-about,  and 
they  departed,  breathing  threatenings  and  slaughter. 
They  were  to  use  the  influence  he  had  refused  to  his 
total  ruin,  but,  after  all,  they  did  him  no  great  harm. 
Some  repaired  with  their  grumbling  to  campaign  head- 
quarters, where  perhaps  they  met  with  a  certain  sol- 
ace from  Ives  Wilson,  who  was  universally  affable  at 
this  time. 

The  final  act  of  the  campaign  was  a  "  grand  cen- 
tral rally  "  at  the  Exposition  Building.  At  this  meet- 
ing, Barclay  was  given  a  seat  among  the  important 
guests  on  the  platform,  and  he  found  his  name  en- 
tered as  one  of  the  long  list  of  vice-presidents. 

An  orator,  introduced  as  "  a  business  man,"  first 
demanded,  "  What  is  leather  worth  ?  What  is  lum- 
ber worth  ?  What  are  any  commodities  worth,  in 
times  like  these  ?  The  rascals,"  he  said,  "  have  stolen 
us  poor.  The  mills  and  workshops  must  be  reopened, 
the  wheels  of  industry  must  once  more  go  round." 

Next  an  ex-postmaster,  who  had  a  certain  ready- 
made  trick  of  enthusiasm  in  his  oratory,  declared  that 
he  had  just  risen  from  a  sick-bed,  to  be  present  at 
this  meeting.  "  My  heart  was  in  the  cause,"  he  said, 
"  and  no  mortal  power  could  have  kept  me  away. 
Hot  words  of  burning  indignation  rise  unbidden  to 
my  lips,  as  I  think  of  the  issues  of  this  hour.  This  is 
no  ordinary  crisis,  no  small  or  mean  occasion.  We 
are  here,  in  our  might,  to  grapple  the  entrenched 
forces  of  corruption  in  a  last,  desperate,  life-and-death 
struggle.  Nor  are  we  alone  in  this  contest :  other 
eyes  are  turned  to  us  from  afar ;  other  hearts  will 


280  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

take  courage  from  us  to  shake  off  the  chains  of  their 
bondage,  or,  should  we  be  so  recreant  to  ourselves  as 
to  fail,  will  sink  down  into  the  night  of  Plutonian 
darkness." 

The  speaker  indulged  in  gurglings,  whisperings, 
bellowings,  and  lachrymose  breakings  of  the  voice,  in 
prodigious  risings  on  the  toes  and  heels  and  bendings 
of  the  knees,  and  in  poundings  of  an  emphatic  fist. 
The  audience  cheered,  howled,  and  cut  into  him,  at 
times,  with  random  interruptions. 

He  was  followed  by  Ives  Wilson,  who  "  reviewed 
the  situation  "  and  "  pictured  the  wants  of  the  hour," 
—  phrases  from  the  press  report  in  his  paper.  "  Why 
does  the  reckless  faction  of  our  opponents  spend 
money  like  water?  "  he  demanded. 

"  O  tempora !  O  mores  !  "  murmured  Paul  Barclay 
to  himself,  in  his  seat  among  the  honorary  vice-presi- 
dents of  the  meeting. 

'•  Why  are  they  making  this  desperate  fight  to  re- 
tain their  grip  upon  the  public  treasury  ?"  Wilson 
went  on. 

It  happened  that,  when  he  was  asking  why  the  ene- 
my had  not,  during  their  tenure  of  office,  done  certain 
very  rose-colored  things,  which  he  represented  as  de- 
sirable, an  interrupting  voice  cried  out,  "  Because 
they  have  n't  got  the  brains,  begod !  " 

';  My  friend  says,  because  they  have  not  the  brains," 
he  went  on,  proposing  to  turn  the  distraction  to  ora- 
torical account  in  a  usual  way ;  "  but  I  will  show  my 
good  friend  that  he  is  wrong.  I  deny  that  it  is  brains 
they  lack ;  it  is  the  common  honesty  to  apply  them." 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  281 

"  Always  deny  a  fact !  "  shouted  the  disturber,  who 
now  elbowed  his  way  hastily  to  the  front. 

The  audience,  at  sight  of  him,  recognized  a  famil- 
iar figure,  a  Tony  Scoville,  one  of  those  harmless  im- 
beciles or  lunatics — once  a  man  of  prominence  in 
the  place  —  of  which  almost  every  locality  has  its 
own  specimen,  who  was,  as  it  were,  the  municipal  jes- 
ter in  ordinary  to  Keewaydin.  His  specialty  of  late 
was  public  meetings.  He  was  repulsed  from  the 
front,  but  with  a  good  deal  of  kindness,  and  genially 
expelled  from  the  building.  Wilson,  crestfallen  at 
having  condescended  to  argue  with  this  kind  of  oppo- 
nent, presently  sat  down. 

David  Lane  was  naturally  the  central  figure  of  the 
rally.  He  sat  for  a  considerable  time,  with  an  ab- 
stracted air,  listening  to  the  glowing  panegyrics 
which  were  pronounced  upon  him  by  Wilson  and 
others. 

When  some  fervid  speaker  had  demanded,  "  Why 
are  we  here  ?  Why  do  I  see  this  vast  concourse  of 
my  fellow-citizens,  this  assemblage  representing  all 
that  is  best  and  grandest  in  Keewaydin,  drawn  to- 
gether ?  "  the  answer,  "  Why,  indeed  ?  "  had  echoed 
pathetically  in  the  dark  depths  of  his  inner  conscious- 
ness. His  thoughts  had  lingered  incessantly  upon 
his  real  purpose.  When  introduced  to  the  audience 
he  seemed  rather  dazed  by  the  crowd  and  hubbub. 
His  address  was  but  brief. 

"  I  am  not  a  man  of  many  words,"  said  he.  "  I 
should  greatly  prefer  to  be  known  to  you  as  a  man 
of  action.  Nor  am  I  a  stranger  among  you.  As  an 


282  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

earnest  of  what  I  will  try  to  be  in  the  future,  I  can 
only  refer  you  to  my  record  in  the  past.  [This  rec- 
ord, as  we  know,  was  of  the  most  exemplary.]  I  can- 
not expect  to  have  wholly  escaped  some  enemies, 
some  calumniators,  in  my  long  residence  here  of  forty 
years,  but  I  shall  make  no  attempt  to  refute  their 
aspersions  now.  I  am  content  to  be  judged  by  my 
friends  and  neighbors  ;  I  leave  myself  with  confidence 
in  your  hands." 

Finally,  great  rounds  of  applause  went  up  that 
made  the  roof-tree  ring.  The  assemblage  poured  out 
into  the  streets,  carrying  their  enthusiasm  with  them. 
The  campaign  was  over,  and  the  Index  characterized 
it  next  day,  in  its  most  florid  head-lines,  as  having 
ended  in  "  A  Blaze  of  Glory,"  "  A  Magnificent  Re- 
form Demonstration  for  David  Lane,  the  People's 
Candidate." 


XIII. 

THE    ELECTION    OF    A    MAYOR 

ELECTION  DAY,  when  it  at  last  arrived,  was  over- 
cast, raw,  and  cold.  The  ice  in  the  bay,  after  hav- 
ing once  gone  out,  apparently  for  good,  had  returned 
again,  locked  vessels  in  its  embrace,  and  given  an 
aspect  of  almost  Arctic  desolation.  The  ticket-ped- 
dlers of  either  side  stood  about  the  booths,  stamping 
their  chilly  feet  for  warmth.  To  guard  against 
dreaded  imitations,  they  had  not  been  served  with 
their  ballots  —  which  had  been  carefully  bunched  and 
ready,  at  headquarters,  the  night  before  —  till  day- 
break ;  but  even  this  precaution,  in  the  sequel,  did 
not  prove  wholly  effectual. 

The  opening  hours  were  like  those  combats  of 
picket  and  skirmish  lines  of  armies  that  precede  a 
general  engagement.  A  few  honest  laborers,  who 
did  not  propose  to  utilize  the  occasion  as  a  holiday, 
were  the  first  to  deposit  their  votes,  which  they  did 
en  route  to  their  regular  day's  work.  Then  came  a 
lull,  and  then,  soon  after  the  comfortable  breakfast- 
time  of  the  well-to-do  classes,  the  action  began  in 
earnest. 

In  the  course  of  the  morning,  rumors  of  defec- 
tions, betrayals,  treasons,  stratagems,  and  spoils,  af- 


284  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

feeling  both  sides,  grew  rife.  Split  tickets,  scratched 
tickets,  and  pure  counterfeits — rudely  executed,  it 
is  true,  but  calculated  to  deceive  the  unwary  —  made 
their  appearance  in  the  field.  Discarded  ballots 
strewed  the  ground  around  the  polling  places  as 
thick  as  leaves  at  Valombrosa.  Cripples  and  octo- 
genarians were  ferreted  out,  and  brought  to  the  polls 
in  hacks.  Mr.  Welby  Goff,  of  the  Index,  proved  an 
excellent  hand  at  this  kind  of  service.  He  trium- 
phantly secured  the  whole  boarding-house  of  Madigan 
against  both  rival  claimants,  and  next  aided  to  save 
the  votes  of  a  large  omnibus -load  of  Bohemians, 
brought  down  by  their  foreman,  from  the  Eagle  File 
Works.  Some  of  DeBow's  agents  endeavored  to 
snatch  away  from  these  last,  as  they  alighted,  the 
Lane  ballots  with  which  they  were  already  supplied, 
and  substitute  their  own  in  place  of  them,  crying,  — 

"  You  are  free  men.  You  need  n't  vote  any  ticket 
only  the  one  you  please." 

This  attempt  was  strenuously  resisted;  the  Bo- 
hemian foreman  shouted  to  his  men  various  strong 
adjurations,  of  which  conflicting  accounts  were  after- 
wards given.  There  was  a  spirited  contest,  which 
almost  came  to  an  exchange  of  blows,  but  the  vic- 
tory remained  with  the  Lane  party,  as  aforesaid. 

This  was  a  halcyon  day  for  the  floating  population 
of  nondescript  characters  who  waited  on  street  cor- 
ners for  odd  jobs.  The  most  obscure  figure  in  the 
community  now  took  on  a  real  importance,  through 
his  possession  of  the  proud  gift  of  the  suffrage. 
Blithe  agents  went  about  with  more  funds  in  their 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  285 

pockets  than  they  needed  for  their  own  wants,  and 
showed  themselves  most  amiably  disposed  to  make 
all  things  merry  wherever  they  moved.  Like  band- 
masters, they  raised  their  batons  for  a  peculiar  music 
at  which  all  the  idle  and  conscienceless  might  dance. 
There  were  pocket-money  and  refreshments  galore, 
with  but  very  slight  service  to  render  in  return.. 

It  leaked  out  that  Ludwig  Trapschuh,  who  had 
been  extremely  noisy  in  the  meeting  for  the  nomina- 
tion, was  among  the  backsliders  from  the  Lane  party. 
What!  Not  that  Ludwig  Trapschuh  of  the  Chip- 
pewa  Street  bridge,  who  owed  his  very  place  to 
David  Lane,  and  whose  niece  had  been  so  long  the 
recipient  of  the  magnate's  bounty  ?  It  was  not  pos- 
sible !  Yes,  —  tell  it  not  in  Gath  nor  dwell  upon 
it  too  long  in  Askelon, — so  it  was.  The  bridge- 
tender,  in  his  usual  financial  straits,  and  lured  by  a 
liberal  gratuity  in  ready  money  from  the  DeBowites, 
had  proved  recreant.  Early  in  the  day  he  had  en- 
tered upon  a  course  of  dissimulation.  His  treachery 
was  intended  at  first  to  be  only  wily  and  foxlike,  but, 
by  little  and  little,  as  the  heat  of  the  day  drew  on, 
the  trammels  of  prudence  were  more  and  more 
thrown  off,  and  it  resembled  open  rebellion  and  de- 
fiance. He  was  found  to  have  distributed  with  his 
own  hands,  and  to  be  a  centre  of  supply  for,  bogus 
Lane  ballots.  These  counterfeited  a  peculiar  design, 
of  an  axe  in  a  bundle  of  fasces,  —  adopted  as  a  bor- 
dering for  the  express  purpose  of  protecting  the 
ticket  from  imitation,  —  and  also  put  up  at  the  head 
the  name  of  James  DeBow  as  the  People's  Reform 


286  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

Candidate,  instead  of  that  of  David  Lane.  It  was  a 
rude  affair,  it  is  true,  but  still  sufficient  to  impose 
upon  the  unwary.  He  was  proved,  among  other 
things,  to  have  accosted  a  group  of  Mecklenberger 
wood-sawyers  in  Market  Square,  and  reproached 
them,  with  affected  surprise,  for  hanging  about  there 
and  waiting  for  jobs,  instead  of  availing  themselves 
of  the  high  privilege  of  citizenship  on  a  day  like  this. 

"  How  we  can  vote  ?  "  their  spokesman  inquired 
of  him  in  reply.  "  We  bin  not  long  enough  in  that 
country." 

"Oh,  that's  all  right;  I  make  it  all  right,  all 
right,"  he  had  answered  cheerfully. 

With  the  aid  of  his  hopeful  son  Barney  and  some 
other  henchmen  appointed  to  do  his  bidding,  he  had 
made  them  pass  their  time  agreeably,  and  seen,  in 
the  course  of  the  day,  that  they  voted  in  one  pre- 
cinct or  another.  They  were  sworn  in,  under  the 
forms  of  law,  by  fraudulent  affidavits. 

He  led  the  half-grown  boy,  Nicodem  Kraska,  to 
deposit  a  ballot,  as  though  of  full  age.  He  endeav- 
ored to  induce  one  of  the  more  active  ticket-peddlers 
for  David  Lane  (it  was  through  this  man's  fidelity 
that  his  treason  was  first  disclosed)  to  go  home  and 
"  lie  down  into  bed,"  —  so  his  expression  was  framed, 
—  offering  for  this  service  the  sum  of  twenty  dollars. 

For  the  making  of  voters  by  affidavit,  notaries- 
public  were  stationed  at  most  of  the  voting  precincts, 
in  the  interest  of  both  sides.  This  was  done  for  the 
benefit  of  all  those  who  had  not  been  able  to  register 
properly  on  the  days  appointed  by  law,  and  who 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  287 

could  give  a  valid  excuse  for  their  absence.  Little 
Notary-Public  Kroeger,  one  of  the  gossips  of  the 
Johannisberger  House,  was  also  a  renegade  to  Lane's 
cause.  It  had  been  arranged  that  he  should  play 
into  Ludwig  Trapschuh's  hands  in  all  this  important 
part  of  the  proceedings.  The  voters  who  were  made 
by  him,  in  his  ostensible  work  for  David  Lane,  were 
supplied,  to  a  man,  with  DeBow  tickets. 

In  this  process,  the  would-be  voter  was  required 
to  make  oath  that  he  was  a  lawful  elector  and  a  resi- 
dent of  the  ward  and  precinct,  and  he  must  show 
sufficient  cause  for  not  having  presented  himself  be- 
fore. This  paper  must  then  be  further  guaranteed 
under  oath  by  some  person  being  a  householder  in 
the  same  ward  and  precinct. 

Trapschuh  and  his  son  Barney  stretched  their  wide 
acquaintance  to  the  utmost.  The  obscurity  of  the 
field  with  which  they  dealt,  the  uncouth  names  and 
speech  and  peculiar  manners  and  customs  of  the  Pol- 
ish and  lower  German  element,  which  was  their  chief 
constituency,  promoted  the  success  of  their  plans,  and 
no  doubt  also  added  an  element  of  recklessness  in  car- 
rying them  out.  Most  of  the  electors  thus  made  were 
of  so  rude  a  character  as  only  to  be  able  to  affix  a 
rude  cross-mark  to  their  affidavits,  instead  of  their 
names. 

The  modus  operandi  was  afterwards  shown,  in  evi- 
dence, to  be  somewhat  as  follows.  A  group  would 
be  brought  iu  by  their  purveyor,  for  instance,  to  the 
back  room  of  Chezef ski's  saloon,  at  the  Railroad 
Avenue  precinct,  in  which  back  room  Notary  Kroeger 


288  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

was  at  his  work.  The  front  room  of  the  same  estab- 
lishment was  occupied  us  the  polling-place. 

"  Well,  why  did  n't  you  register  ?  "  asked  the  no- 
tary, when  this  part  was  reached  in  its  order,  paus- 
•  ing  a  moment,  with  pen  raised  in  air,  for  the  reply. 

The  applicant  was  often  too  stupid  to  allege  even 
the  simplest  excuse. 

"  Was  you  sick  ?  "  prompted  the  notary,  in  a  cut- 
and-dried  way. 

"Yes,  I  was  sick,"  returned  the  man,  full  of  won- 
der at  the  brilliant  invention  that  could  suggest  so  deft 
a  plea. 

One  of  the  Trapschuhs,  or  their  assistants,  certified 
to  this,  as  a  householder  and  a  resident  of  this,  that, 
or  the  other  ward  and  precinct,  as  the  case  might  be. 
When  there  came  an  apparent  hitch,  and  a  knot  of 
unidentified  persons  stood  irresolutely  about  the  room, 
needing  a  sponsor,  at  a  nod  from  Ludwig  Trapschuh 
one  Weuzel  Haller,  a  teamster  from  the  House  of 
Correction,  stepped  forward,  and  cried  in  a  hearty 
way, — 

"  Hello !  I  know  all  these  men.  They  want  to 
vote  for  DeBow.  Why  don't  you  swear  'em  in  ?  " 

"  You  are  a  householder  ? "  asked  Kroeger,  pro- 
ceeding expeditiously  to  do  so. 

"  Yes,  of  course,  I  'm  a  householder.  That 's  just 
what  I  am,  —  a  householder,  every  time." 

A  new  batch  was  brought  in  by  Joe  Skinsky,  a 
Polish  butcher,  but  the  teamster  Haller,  possibly 
with  some  remote  fear  of  consequences,  now  objected 
to  being  utilized  any  further.  "  Let  somebody  else 
know  these,"  he  said  doggedly.  "  I  done  enough." 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  289 

"  You  know  me,  any  way,  Haller,"  said  one  of 
the  men  confidently,  pushing  his  way  to  the  front, 
prompted  by  Trapschuh. 

"  Where  I  seen  you  before  ?  "  inquired  the  team- 
ster, blinking  at  him  in  far  more  than  doubt. 

"  Oh,  down  by  the  city  limits,"  was  the  answer,  in 
a  large  way,  generously  covering  a  sufficient  field. 

"  Well,  I  sign  this  one,"  consented  Haller,  grum- 
bling; "  but,  by  jinks !  that's  all." 

He  sat  down,  and  began  once  more  to  affix  his  sig- 
nature, laboriously  thrusting  out  his  tongue  in  the 
process. 

"Ah — a — a!  sign  'em  up,  sign  'em  up!  Don't 
wait  till  next  Christmas !  "  cried  Barney  Trapschuh, 
in  his  rowdy  way. 

"Sign  'em  yourselluf!"  exclaimed  Haller,  jump- 
ing up  in  dudgeon,  upon  this,  and  refusing  to  have 
anything  more  to  do  with  his  task. 

This  was  gleefully  taken,  however,  as  a  genuine 
permit ;  and  on  no  better  authorization,  in  fact,  as 
was  shown  in  court,  a  dozen  more  affidavits  were 
framed  and  signed  by  the  notary  and  others,  as  Hal- 
ler's  agents,  all  certifying  that  the  persons  respectively 
named  within  were  qualified  electors,  residents  of  the 
proper  ward  and  precinct,  and  had  been  totally  inca- 
pacitated by  illness  from  registering. 

Paul  Barclay  was  at  general  headquarters  several 
times  during  the  day.  Once  as  he  came  out,  in  the 
afternoon,  he  met  Mrs.  Varemberg.  Her  presence 
there  seemed  like  a  breath  of  some  rare  fragrance 
that  had  wafted  from  a  higher  region  into  the  rude 


290  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

turmoil  of  this  exclusive  strife  of  men.  She  had  just 
pulled  up  at  the  curbstone,  in  her  phaeton,  and  George 
Woodburn  —  a  young  lawyer,  who  was  having  his 
first  practice  to-day  in  active  politics  —  had  gone  to 
her,  to  give  her  what  scanty  news  might  as  yet  be 
had  of  the  fortunes  of  the  day.  Young  Woodburn 
resigned  his  place  to  Barclay,  as  one  calculated  to 
speak  with  greater  authority  than  himself,  and  left 
him  with  her. 

"  I  was  so  impatient  and  nervous,"  said  the  fair 
driver,  "  that  I  could  not  stay  in  the  house.  I  had 
to  come  out  and  try  to  get  some  idea  of  how  things 
are  going.  My  father  has  kept  himself  closely  shut 
up  in  his  room,  and  has  not  given  me  a  scrap  of  in- 
formation/' 

She  had  not,  of  late,  had  the  common  feminine  atti- 
tude of  scorn  towards  politics,  and  it  was  a  pleasure  to 
talk  to  her  on  that  subject  as  on  others.  She  insisted 
on  Barclay's  getting  into  the  phaeton  beside  her,  and 
desired  an  intelligent  opinion  on  the  causes  making 
for  or  against  success. 

"  It  is  too  early  for  anything  of  value,"  returned 
Barclay.  "  There  is  a  rumor  of  trouble  for  us  in  the 
Polish  quarter,  which  was  supposed  to  be  sound  for 
your  father,  without  question,  on  account  of  its  nat- 
ural party  affiliations.  What  the  extent  of  it  will  be 
it  is  impossible  to  say.  The  DeBowites  have  been 
working  there  under  the  surface.  It  is  even  said  that 
a  sermon  was  preached  in  DeBow's  favor  in  the 
church.  It  is  a  district  where  a  great  deal  of  crook- 
edness can  be  covered  up." 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  291 

They  drove  some  little  while  together,  looking  on, 
from  a  distance,  at  characteristic  sights  of  the  elec- 
tion. Mrs.  Varemberg's  anxiety  indicated  the  ex- 
tent of  the  interest  she  felt  to  be  depending,  for  them, 
upon  the  result.  Since  her  father  was  so  set  upon 
the  post  of  mayor,  she  thought  nothing  ought  to  be 
neglected  that  could  take  away  the  pretext  for  op- 
posing them  further  on  that  score.  Barclay  alighted 
near  the  Railroad  Avenue  precinct.  He  stood  a  mo- 
ment to  murmur  blessings  after  her  dear  figure,  as  she 
drove  away,  and  then,  in  accordance  with  a  promise 
he  had  made  to  her,  plunged  into  the  thick  of  the  fray, 
to  see  what  mischief  he  could  discover  and  frustrate 
in  person.  It  was  he  who,  acting  upon  information 
conveyed  to  him,  finally  unmasked  the  Trapschuhs. 
The  counterfeit  Lane  ballots,  made  as  heretofore  de- 
scribed, were  traced  from  son  to  father.  When  con- 
fronted with  his  part  in  this  knavery,  the  latter  indig- 
nantly denied  it.  He  held  that  Barney  had  been 
imposed  upon,  through  not  being,  as  he  said,  "  a  good- 
educated  "  person.  He  showed  how  he  had  nothing 
but  Lane  ballots,  and  all  marked  with  a  peculiar 
Polish  mark  of  his  own,  so  that  ignorant  voters  who 
received  them  from  him  might  be  sure  they  were 
voting  the  right  ticket,  even  though  they  could  not 
read  it.  Johnny  Maguire  and  another  stalwart  hand 
of  Barclay's,  however,  dexterously  sprang  upon  him, 
at  the  risk  of  a  breach  of  the  peace,  and  "in  the 
twinkling  of  a  bed-post,"  as  the  former  expressed  it, 
searched  his  pockets,  and  found  them  full  of  the 
bogus  Lane  ballots,  all  marked  in  precisely  the  same 
manner. 


292  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

This  particular  precinct  was  found  given  over,  well- 
nigh  wholly,  to  the  hands  of  the  enemy.  As  it  trans- 
pired, the  DeBowites  had  secured,  at  the  beginning, 
two  of  the  three  inspectors,  and  these  had  finally  in- 
duced their  colleague  of  the  Lane  persuaskm  to  go 
home  on  plea  of  illness,  and  leave  them  to  fill  the 
vacancy  and  retain  the  unquestioned  control  of  affairs. 
This  defection,  though  important,  was  but  a  small 
portion  of  the  Polish  quarter,  the  bulk  of  which  held 
to  David  Laue. 

As  the  lines  of  voters  lengthened  before  the  poll- 
ing places  towards  evening,  the  DeBow  managers 
might  have  sighed,  like  Wellington  at  Waterloo, 
"  for  night  or  Bliicher."  Anything  in  the  nature  of 
delay  or  obstruction  of  votes  was  to  their  advantage. 
Their  inspectors  at  the  Railroad  Avenue  precinct 
adopted  the  Fabian  policy  with  all  their  art.  One  of 
them  put  his  head  out  of  the  window  at  noon,  and 
cried,  "  Hear  ye !  hear  ye !  the  polls  are  closed  for 
half  an  hour ;  "  and  they  took  this  time  for  a  com- 
fortable luncheon,  while  the  electors  waited.  On  two 
separate  occasions,  later,  a  head  was  again  put  out, 
a  voice  called,  "  Hear  ye  !  hear  ye  ! "  and  the  polls 
were  closed  a  considerable  time,  while  they  listened 
to  confused  wrangling  of  the  friends  of  some  men 
unable  to  show  their  full  citizen  papers,  whom  they 
admitted  by  a  back  door.  Once,  Skinsky,  the 
butcher,  came  out  rubbing  his  hands,  and  gleefully 
announced,  — 

"  They  are  turning  the  house  the  top-side  on  the 
bottom,  in  there." 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  293 

The  delayed  voters,  suspecting  artifice,  but  unable 
to  prevent  it,  fumed  without.  They  jostled  and 
pushed,  jeered  the  inspectors,  shouted  that  they  were 
free  men,  and  that  they  would  not  be  kept  there  all 
day.  All  at  once  a  cry  went  up  : 

"  Them  men  from  down  Muckwonago  Road  has 
got  the  small-pox  among  'em  !  " 

A  mob,  in  affected  horror,  hustled  the  persons  thus 
indicated  —  who  had  no  small-pox,  but  were  simply 
good  DeBow  voters,  for  all  the  trickery  was  not  con- 
fined to  one  side,  as  has  been  said  —  out  of  the  line, 
and  promptly  filled  their  places,  which  had  been  near 
the  front. 

This  mano3uvre  came  too  late,  however,  to  have 
any  political  effect.  The  day  was  well  on  towards 
its  close  at  the  time,  and  it  presently  expired  as  if 
with  a  tangible  noise.  Boom  !  came  the  sound  of  a 
distant  signal  gun,  —  the  piece  regularly  fired  on  the 
grounds  of  the  fine  Soldiers'  Home,  on  the  outskirts, 
to  mark  the  exact  time  of  sunset.  Its  report  had  not 
fully  died  away  before  the  polling-window  shut  with 
a  bang.  The  election  was  over,  and  the  waiting  vot- 
ers without  sent  up  yells  of  rage  and  discomfiture. 

Long  past  the  customary  time,  that  evening,  the 
returns  of  the  election  were  not  yet  in.  Even  those 
who  waited  in  hope  till  a  very  late  hour  of  the  night 
were  forced  at  last  to  go  to  bed  without  them.  Nor 
did  the  papers  of  the  next  day,  nor  even  of  the  next, 
contain  them.  The  result  as  to  some  of  the  minor 
officers  was  known,  it  is  true.  Paul  Barclay,  for 


294  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

instance,  was  elected  alderman  of  Keewaydin,  and 
Christian  Idak,  landlord  of  the  Johannisberger 
House,  was  defeated.  But  a  deal  of  close  scrutiny 
was  needed  before  it  should  be  known  who  was  to  be 
the  next  mayor. 

During  these  days,  the  rain  fell  almost  continu- 
ously, beating  in  a  sodden  way  the  political  banners, 
not  yet  taken  in,  —  as  if  it  said,  "  A  plague  o'  both 
your  houses  !  "  —  and  adding  to  the  depression  of 
those  spirits  that  had  already  sufficient  to  make  them 
gloomy.  After  noon,  on  the  fourth  day,  Mrs.  Var- 
emberg  was  with  her  father,  when  a  messenger  ar- 
rived with  all  speed,  bringing  him  an  announcement. 

"  Is  it  good  news,  papa  ?  Tell  me  quickly,"  de- 
manded Mrs.  Varemberg,  scanning  his  features,  — 
upon  which  no  ray  of  elation  appeared,  —  and  un- 
able to  await  his  slow  words. 

"  I  am  elected,"  he  answered  impassively. 

"  You  are  elected  ?  You  are  successful,  and  yet 
—  you  show  no  pleasure  in  it  ?  "  she  said,  uneasy 
and  alarmed. 

"  My  majority  is  of  but  nine  votes.  They  will 
not  let  me  rest  easy  with  it.  So  slender  a  margin 
offers  too  great  a  premium  for  contest.  It  will  be 
disputed." 


XIV. 

THE  CONTESTED  ELECTION. 

DAVID  LANE  was  right  in  his  premonitions  :  his 
slender  majority  offered  too  great  a  premium  to  ob- 
jectors. He  was  presently  served  with  the  pi-oper 
notices,  and  his  election  was  formally  contested. 

The  testimony  in  this  case  was  taken  in  a  long 
upper  room  of  the  Johannisberger  House,  sometimes 
used  as  a  lodge-room,  for  assemblies  and  the  like.  It 
was  at  no  great  distance  from  the  Polish  quarter, 
and  was  deemed  a  convenient  place  for  procuring 
the  attendance  of  the  persons  interested.  There  had 
been  an  active  stirring  among  the  dry-bones  when  it 
was  known  that  these  proceedings  would  take  place. 
Naturally,  investigation  would  not  be  confined  to  one 
side  only.  Irregular  characters  of  all  sorts  were  has- 
tily moved  to  embark  on  steamers  and  gravel  trains, 
while  others,  of  a  higher  class,  with  standing  to  main- 
tain, who  could  not  so  easily  take  flight,  quaked  with 
even  greater  trepidation.  In  the  sequel,  develop- 
ments reached  far  beyond  even  the  utmost  that  was 
expected.  The  principal  legal  talent  of  Keewaydin 
was  enlisted.  There  were  writs  quo  warranto  and 
certiorari,  mandamuses,  injunctions,  demurrers,  ap- 
peals, all  the  law's  delays,  voluntary  and  involuntary. 
Should  all  the  surprises,  feats  of  legal  skill,  hardihood, 


290  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

and  chicanery,  and  store  of  legal  learning  poured 
forth,  be  here  set  down,  after  the  Homeric  fashion, 
this  simple  account  could  be  extended  to  unheard-of 
length.  With  the  vital  interests  they  held  at  stake, 
each  side  strained  every  nerve.  Paul  Barclay,  who 
himself  bore  no  unimportant  part  in  the  proceedings, 
formed  a  habit  of  reporting  to  Mrs.  Varemberg,  at 
frequent  intervals,  for  her  information  and  pleasure, 
all  their  stages,  —  the  humors,  exciting  episodes,  and 
glimpses  into  new  and  quaint  phases  of  life  which  this 
unexpected  upheaval  afforded. 

The  case  for  the  contestant,  Jim  DeBow,  was 
chiefly  managed  by  that  astute  person,  Counselor 
Rand,  —  the  same  who  had  once  had  Barclay's  prop- 
erty in  charge.  He  proved,  on  this  trial,  to  be  a 
man  of  shrewd,  quick  invention,  an'  adept  in  the 
sophistry  that  makes  the  worse  appear  the  better  rea- 
son. He  had  a  ready  gift  of  gab,  was  skilled  both  in 
irony  and  invective,  and  was  well  versed  generally  in 
all  the  unscrupulous  resources  of  his  art.  In  his  open- 
ing speech  he  outlined  his  proposed  policy.  He  said 
in  substance :  — 

"  I  offer  to  prove,  and  shall  establish  beyond  the 
shadow  of  a  doubt,  that  there  were  cast  for  David 
Lane,  in  the  various  wards,  not  less  than  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty  irregular  and  fraudulent  votes. 
These  are  to  be  deducted  from  his  total  vote,  as  be- 
ing wholly  null  and  void.  A  clear  title  to  the  high 
and  honorable  office  of  mayor  of  Keewaydin  will 
thereupon  rest  with  my  client,  James  Sapperthwaite 
DeBow,  Esq."  (This  middle  name  created  a  certain 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  297 

sensation  in  the  court-room.  It  was  perhaps  the  first 
time  DeBow  had  ever  been  known  to  have  any  mid- 
dle name  at  all,  or  any  other  prefix  than  the  custom- 
ary "  Jim.")  "  I  shall  show  that  these  irregular  and 
fraudulent  votes,"  Rand  went  on,  "  were  cast  by  the 
following  persons,  to  wit :  — 

"  Aliens,  or  persons  not  qualified  by  sufficient  res- 
idence in  the  country  to  exercise  the  right  of  suffrage 
as  American  citizens. 

"  Others  who  had  not  resided  in  the  State  for  the 
one  year  next  prior  to  election,  as  required  by  law. 

"Others  not  resident  in,  or  qualified  electors  of,  the 
wards  and  precincts  in  which  they  assumed  to  vote. 

"  Others  vouched  for  by  persons  not  householders, 
and  therefore  not  competent  to  act  as  sponsors. 

"  Finally,  I  allege  that  a  large  number  of  votes 
were  manufactured  outright,  and  corresponded  to  no 
persons  having  an  actual  existence." 

Rand  charged,  furthermore,  bribei-y,  corruption, 
and  undue  influence  of  many  kinds.  He  glared  about 
the  court-room  as  he  spoke,  and  preserved  through- 
out a  sonorous  rhetoric  and  air  of  august  indignation, 
as  if  he  had  been  another  Edmund  Burke  impeach- 
ing a  Warren  Hastings  of  high  crimes  and  misde- 
meanors, in  the  great  hall  of  William  Rufus.  He  put 
Ludwig  Trapschuh  on  the  stand,  as  an  expert  in  the 
habits,  manners,  and  customs  of  the  Polish  people. 
The  bridge-tender  proceeded  to  recollect  names, 
dates,  and  circumstances  with  a  prodigious  facility. 
His  own  belief  was  that  all  was  utterly  lost  to  him 
henceforth,  so  far  as  concerned  the  favor  of  David 


298  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

Lane,  —  even,  probably,  to  the  stipend  of  Stanislava, 
—  and  his  only  salvation  must  be  in  deserving  the 
gratitude  of  the  opposition  to  the  utmost. 

Mr.  Welby  Goff  next  made  a  considerable  figure, 
under  examination,  iu  describing  his  part  in  the 
wrangle  over  the  'bus-load  of  Bohemian  workmen,  as 
before  mentioned. 

"  Did  you  not  distinctly  hear  their  foreman  threaten 
to  discharge  them  unless  they  obeyed  orders  ?  "  de- 
manded counsel  for  the  contestant. 

"  How  could  I  have  understood  him.  if  he  was  Bo- 
hemian ?  "  returned  witness,  parrying. 

"  Answer  my  question.  Did  you  not  distinctly  hear 
him  make  that  threat  in  English?" 

"  What  I  want  to  know,  in  that  case,  is  how  the 
men  could  have  understood  him,  if  they  were  Bohe- 
mians," said  Welby  Goff. 

This  was  characterized  by  Rand  as  impudent  and 
evasive  quibbling,  —  as  no  doubt  it  was,  —  and  when 
DeBow's  side  finally  rested  their  case  the  prospect 
looked  dark  for  David  Lane.  It  was  plainly  evident 
that  Ives  Wilson  and  some  of  his  friends, acting  with" 
an  ill-judged  zeal,  to  put  the  most  favorable  construc- 
tion upon  it,  had  done  things  that  would  not  at  all 
bear  the  clear  light  of  investigation. 

When  Lane's  counsel  took  the  floor,  however,  the 
case  assumed  a  very  different  complexion.  It  was 
shown  that  the  DeBow  party  had  engaged  in  the 
same,  and  even  more  iniquitous,  practices.  The  issue 
seemed  to  resolve  itself  into  one  more  of  quantity 
than  quality. 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  299 

Paul  Barclay  was  called  to  testify  as  to  an  expedi- 
tion —  consisting  of  himself,  one  Peter  Stransky,  the 
Polish  letter-carrier,  and  a  German  interpreter  —  he 
ha'd  energetically  organized  of  his  own  motion,  to  go 
about,  on  the  South  Side,  searching  for  the  numerous 
missing  voters  by  affidavit  for  DeBow.  He  testified 
that  he  had  taken  a  copy  of  the  poll-list,  and  at  sev- 
eral of  the  addresses  given  had  found  no  houses  at  all, 
nor  any  such  numbers  on  the  streets ;  and  at  numer- 
ous others,  no  trace  whatever  of  the  pretended  voters 
named,  nor  of  any  persons  who  had  ever  known  them. 

He  was  attacked  by  Rand  with  all  the  arts  permit- 
ted the  unscrupulous  cross-examiner.  That  individ- 
ual had,  for  the  first  time,  found  an  opportunity  to 
wreak  in  a  small  way  the  malice  he  still  cherished 
from  the  date  of  their  former  dealings  together.  He 
sought  to  impugn  Barclay's  reputation  for  truth  and 
veracity.  He  sought  next  to  show  that  the  little 
band  of  searchers  were  not  qualified  for  their  mission, 
that  they  had  been  frightened  away  from  certain  ten- 
ement-houses by  fear  of  small-pox,  that  their  search 
was  but  a  mere  pretense  at  best,  that  they  had  no  real 
desire  to  find  the  voters,  but  had  increased  the  mysti- 
fication, and  distorted  facts  for  their  own  partisan  pur- 
poses. He  changed  from  the  browbeating  to  the  pat- 
ronizing, from  the  menacing  to  the  genially  sarcastic ; 
he  threw  in  plentiful  taunts  and  innuendoes,  calcu- 
lated to  enrage  the  callow  in  this  kind  of  experience, 
to  his  own  entanglement  and  destruction.  The  red 
color  of  resentment,  in  fact,  mantled  the  cheek  of  Paul 
Barclay  at  the  first  few  stings,  and  his  eye  kindled 


300  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

in  a  way  that  might  have  indicated  danger  to  his  tor- 
mentor. But  he  very  soon  recovered  his  self-control, 
and,  adopting  a  far  more  effectual  policy,  began  to  re- 
turn cool,  baffling,  sometimes  half-amused  replies,  that 
showed  him  to  be  no  tyro  in  linguistic  conflicts,  but 
one  amply  able  to  defend  himself.  Hand  fell  back 
from  some  of  his  more  biting  answers,  much  as  the 
wild  bull  might  fall  back,  from  violent  onslaughts,  on 
the  keen  rapier  of  the  toreador. 

••  You  have  lived  a  long  time  in  Poland,  no  doubt  ?  " 
he  said,  sneeringly.  "  You  are  thoroughly  familiar 
with  the  language  ?  " 

"  I  have  spent  a  short  time  in  Poland.  I  have  a 
certain  idea  of  its  pronunciation." 

The  questioner  was  flustered ;  he  had  not  expected 
any  such  evidence  of  fitness. 

He  entered  next  upon  questions  of  pronunciation 
at  great  length.  He  chose  to  impugn  the  competency 
of  Peter  Stransky  —  a  renegade  Pole,  he  said,  whom 
his  countrymen  refused  to  associate  with  —  and  the 
German  interpreter.  "  Will  you  kindly  describe  to 
us,"  he  demanded,  "  your  method  of  asking  for  these 
voters  ?  " 

••  Where  the  person  named  was  taken  to  be  Polish, 
he  was  inquired  for  through  the  Polish  interpreter ; 
where  he  was  taken  to  be  German,  through  the  Ger- 
man interpreter." 

"  How  did  you  know  whether  the  person  was  Pol- 
ish or  German  ?  " 

"  I  judged  of  his  nationality  from  the  name." 

"Are  you  a  first-class  expert  in  judging  of  the 
nationality  of  a  man  from  his  name  ?" 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  301 

"  I  am  perhaps  about  a  third-class  expert,"  replied 
Barclay,  smiling,  "  but  the  combined  expertness  of 
the  party  must  certainly  have  been  pretty  near  the 
proper  standard." 

"  Did  you  not  know  that  if  you  did  not  find  these 
men  it  would  be  more  to  the  advantage  of  David 
Lane  than  if  you  did  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,  we  must  take  that  for  granted,  just  as 
the  learned  counsel  knows  that  bluster  and  imperti- 
nence may  take  the  place  of  argument  and  evidence, 
when  he  has  none  in  his  case,"  returned  Barclay,  for 
once  meeting  the  insult  somewhat  in  kind. 

Upon  this,  the  court  pounded  with  its  gavel,  and 
insisted  on  rather  better  order  on  both  sides  ;  but 
Rand  continued  to  thunder  that  the  whole  inquiry 
was  a  delusion  and  an  intentional  fraud,  and  that  all 
the  persons  inquired  for  really  existed,  and  could 
have  been  found  by  any  honest  and  competent  au- 
thorities. He  next  recalled  Trapschuh  to  sustain 
his  position,  which  this  man  did  with  a  preposterous 
effrontery. 

"  I  ask  you,  as  a  person  well  versed  in  the  pecul- 
iarities of  the  Polish  people,"  he  said,  putting  the 
bridge-tender  a  long  hypothetical  question.  "  Sup- 
posing a  number  of  strange  men,  one  an  American, 
one  a  German,  and  one  a  Pole,  should  go  about  to- 
gether through  the  Polish  quarter,  asking  a  great 
variety  of  questions,  —  such  as  who  lived  in  a  house, 
whether  such  and  such  persons  lived  there,  and  the 
like,  —  what  sort  of  treatment  would  such  a  band  be 
likely  to  meet  with  ?  " 


302  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

"They  would  meet  with  no  treatment  at  all.  It 
would  be  lucky  for  them  if  they  did  n't  get  licked." 

"  And  they  would  not  get  any  information  ?  " 

"  No :  parties  would  run  on  ahead  and  tell  other 
parties  they  was  coming,  and,  when  they  got  there, 
they  would  ask  them  what  they  wanted  to  know  for ; 
and  no  matter  what  they  asked,  they  would  not  tell 
them  anything." 

"  Now  as  to  the  Polish  women.  I  ask  you,  as  a 
person  well  versed  in  the  peculiarities  of  the  Polish 
people,  what  would  be  the  course  of  the  Polish  wo- 
men, if  their  husbands  or  other  male  relatives  were 
absent  from  home,  when  such  a  band  of  men  came 
prowling  about.  Would  they  give  information  ?  " 

"  No  ;  the  men  would  n't  let  'em.  Besides,  all 
them  Polish  women  lie  like  the  devil ;  they  don't 
ever  answer  no  questions  right." 

A  slight  cry  was  heard,  upon  this.  Trapschuh, 
looking  round,  saw  his  niece,  Stanislava  Zelinsky,  in 
the  court.  He  wondered  at  her  being  there,  but 
supposed  it  was  only  as  a  spectator,  like  the  rest. 
The  room  was  packed,  several  rows  deep,  all  around 
its  borders,  with  men,  for  the  most  part  of  the  labor- 
ing sort,  in  rough,  ill-smelling  clothing,  drawn  there 
by  their  personal  interest,  or  that  of  immediate 
friends,  in  the  proceedings.  The  girl  was  being  led 
up  to  a  more  favored  position,  it  is  true,  apart  from 
this  crowd,  and  not  far  from  the  counsel  for  David 
Lane ;  but  Trapschuh  did  not  approve  of  the  degree 
of  forwardness  and  curiosity  that  could  have  brought 
her  to  such  a  place.  He  meant  to  have  more  to  say 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  303 

of  this  anon,  though  by  no  means,  as  yet,  suspecting 
the  real  cause  of  it. 

"  Have  you  met  with  many  instances,  in  your  ex- 
perience, where  the  Polish  women  would  not  tell  the 
truth  ?  "  he  was  asked. 

"  Yes,  more  as  two  hundred,  —  more  as  one  thou- 
sand," he  replied,  with  a  nonchalant  recklessness. 

Stanislava  involuntarily  lamented  aloud  once  more 
at  this  wholesale  aspersion.  The  glib  perjuries  of 
her  uncle  made  her  breath  come  thick  and  fast,  with 
astonishment  and  grief.  She  wondered  that  the  floor 
did  not  open  and  swallow  him  up.  She  looked 
around  the  circle,  as  if  all  present  were  somehow 
responsible,  too,  and  almost  as  bad  as  he,  inasmuch 
as  they  did  not  stop  it  on  the  instant,  but  calmly  sat 
there  instead,  and  listened  to  it  go  on.  The  true 
history  of  her  coming  into  court  was  as  follows  :  — 

David  Lane,  following  with  painful  intensity  all 
the  stages  of  the  trial,  went  to  his  daughter,  one 
day,  when  it  was  well  advanced,  and  said,  — 

"  You  say  this  Polish  girl,  whom  I  have  benefited, 
once  told  you  she  wished  to  be  of  service  to  me. 
Now  is  her  opportunity,  if  she  will  use  it.  She 
seems  an  intelligent,  observing  person,  and  she  has 
undoubtedly  seen  something  of  the  true  facts  in  the 
case ;  she  may  be  got  to  deny  the  wild  fabrications  of 
this  man,  even  though  he  be  her  relative.  She  can 
hardly  wish  to  aid  the  combination  against  me,  I  am 
sure.'' 

Mrs.  Varemberg  had  immediately  sought  the  girl, 
and  found  her  ready  to  speak  the  truth.  She  had 


304  TI1E   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

sent  her  to  Barclay,  and  he,  in  turn,  to  the  discreet 
counsel  in  the  case,  and  an  arrangement  had  been 
effected  by  which,  keeping  suspicion  averted  till  the 
last  moment,  she  was  to  appear. 

Such  hard  swearing  as  that  of  Trapschuh  and  his 
mates  produced  conviction  in  the  humbler  portion  of 
the  audience,  who  stood  about  in  awe,  and  thought 
that  egregious  asseveration  like  this  must  make  even 
those  things  to  be  which  had  not  been.  It  had  its 
effect  even  in  higher  quarters,  not  too  well  versed 
as  yet  in  distinguishing  facts  from  protestation.  The 
production  of  Stanislava,  therefore,  was  a  decided 
coup.  It  was  rare  that  any  woman  entered  the  do- 
main of  these  political  turmoils,  and  here  was  a  very 
young,  pretty,  and  apparently  ingenuous  one.  A 
little  hubbub  arose  as  she  took  the  stand,  which  re- 
quired some  time  to  quell.  The  protruding  little 
eyes  of  Ludwig  Trapschuh  started  from  his  head 
with  amazement. 

She  controverted  his  outrageous  statements,  tried 
to  vindicate  her  humble  country-women  from  the 
sweeping  charge  of  mendacity,  and  traced  Polish 
families  and  individual  voters.  She  often  knew  the 
exact  date  of  their  arrival  in  the  country,  through 
having  entered  them  as  applicants  for  assistance  and 
employment  on  the  books  of  the  benevolent  societies. 
The  excellent  handwriting  on  which  we  have  heard 
her  complimented  now  stood  her  in  good  stead. 

Most  important  of  all,  —  casting  a  look  of  appeal 
at  her  uncle,  as  if  to  beseech  him  not  to  withhold  his 
favor  from  her,  even  though  she  performed  a  duty 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  305 

which  her  conscience  and  the  interests  of  truth  clear- 
ly demanded,  —  she  testified  to  having  overheard  the 
conspiracy  between  him,  Barney,  and  Notary  Kroe- 
ger,  whereby,  though  appearing  to  act  always  for 
David  Lane,  they  were  covertly  to  procure  and 
manufacture  votes  for  Jim  DeBow.  She  was  timid 
and  flushed  with  fevered  nervousness,  at  first,  but 
gained  confidence  as  she  proceeded,  and  her  answers 
were  of  a  clear  positiveness  that  crosscut-examina- 
tion could  not  shake.  Her  whole  manner  carried 
conviction  with  it. 

A  recall  of  Trapschuh,  based  upon  her  evidence, 
followed,  and  resulted  in  his  utter  collapse.  He  tan- 
gled himself  up  in  a  new  tissue  of  preposterous  false- 
hoods. Shown  an  "  exhibit "  that  purported  to  be 
the  affidavit  of  the  voter  Wozer  Chezefski,  he  was 
asked  if  he  knew  Chezefski. 

"  Yes,"  he  replied,  "  I  know  him  very  well.  He 
belong  from  Prussia  Poland." 

Shown  "exhibit  23,"  the  affidavit  of  the  pretended 
voter  Wenzel  Vai,  he  was  asked,  "  Do  you  know 
Wenzel  Vai  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  know  a  man  like  that.  He's  a  Bohemian 
man." 

Shown  the  affidavit  of  the  pretended  voter  Andreas 
Lanick,  he  said,  — 

"  Yes,  I  know  him." 

"  How  long  ?  " 

"  Since  twenty-five  years  ago." 

Shown  a  great  number  of  other  ex-affidavits  of  the 
same  general  description,  — 


306  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

"  Yes,  I  know  each  and  every  one  of  them."  He 
had  caught  up  stray  bits  of  the  legal  phraseology. 

"  And  you  could  find  these  men  if  you  wished  to  ?  " 

"  Yes,  unless  they  moved  away  since  election 
day." 

"  What  makes  you  think  they  would  move  away 
since  election  day  ?  " 

"  More  as  two,  three,  hundred  Polander  families 
moved  away  since  election  time,"  he  asserted,  in 
round  numbers. 

"  Does  not  that  estimate  seem  a  little  high  ?" 

"  No,  it  is  not  high ;  it  is  low,"  he  insisted  dog- 
gedly. 

"  Now,  will  you  tell  us  what  you  understand  by  a 
family  ?  " 

"  I  und'stand  a  man,  his  wife,  some  children,  and 
maybe  a  few  cousins  and  uncles." 

"  Why  do  you  think  so  many  families  would  sud- 
denly leave  Keewaydin  ?  " 

"  If  them  Polanders  can  live  cheaper  by  goin' 
away  as  by  stayin'  at  home,  they  will  go  away,  —  in 
Minnezota,  Illinois,  and  Michigan." 

Counsel  amiably  appeared  to  accept  this  as  quite  a 
philosophical  answer  and  explanation,  and  Trapschuh 
was  much  pleased  with  his  own  ingenuity. 

"  Will  you,  now,  kindly  give  a  description  of  the 
Andreas  Lanick  before  mentioned  ?  " 

"  He  had  a  —  a  —  slouched  hat  and  a  —  kind  o' 
—  old  coat,"  stammered  Trapschuh.  "  I  know  him 
very  well ; "  more  promptly. 

"  Give  us  a  description  of  Wenzel  Vai." 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  307 

"  He  's  a  kind  o'  sandy  man,  —  not  very  short.  I 
done  some  figurin'  with  him  once." 

"  Please  describe  Wozer  Chezefski." 

"  He  's  not  very  tall.  He  wears  a  slouched  hat, 
too,"  the  witness  returned,  nearly  at  the  end  of  his 
invention. 

"  Give  us  a  description  of  Mike  Matelski." 

"  The  description  of  each  and  every  Polauder  is 
mostly  alike." 

"  Tell  us  where  Mike  Matelski  lived." 

"  Down  by  Muckwonago  Road.  I  guess  I  don't 
remember  the  number." 

"  In  what  street  ?  " 

"  It  was  a  wood  house,  —  kind  o'  red  color,  with 
green  blinds,"  he  answered  evasively. 

"  Where  did  Wozer  Chezefski  live  ?  " 

"  His  house  was  kind  o'  blue  color." 

The  witness  began  to  mop  his  forehead  furiously 
with  a  handkerchief. 

"  What  was  the  age  of  your  friend  Andreas  La- 
nick  ?  " 

"  Oh,  he  was  a  younk  man,  —  he  's  about  twenty- 
two  years  old." 

"  Your  memory  is  perfectly  good  ?  " 

"  Nobody  has  so  better  a  memory  as  what  I  got," 
he  replied,  resenting  any  imputations  upon  it. 

"  Well,  then,  how  does  it  happen  that  you  remem- 
ber Andreas  Lanick  for  the  past  twenty-five  years, 
when  you  say  he  is  but  twenty-two  years  old  ?  " 

The  witness's  jaw  dropped.  He  was  aghast ;  but 
presently  seemed  recovering  himself,  in  a  surly  way, 
for  new  efforts. 


308  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

"Now,  as  to  this  large  number  of  families  that 
you  say  moved  away  :  did  you  personally  see  them 
go?" 

"  I  seen  some  go,  and  parties  told  me  about  the 
others." 

"  What  were  the  names  of  those  you  saw  go  ?  " 

"  One's  name  was  Lijeski ;  I  guess  the  man's  front 
name  was  Antony.  Another's  name  was  Molicheck. 
Another's  name  was  Lexau." 

"  Those  are  three  ;  how  as  to  the  rest  of  the  three 
hundred  ? " 

"  I  don't  remember  all  the  names." 

"  Nor  any  more  of  them  ?  " 

"No." 

"Who  were  the  parties  who  told  you  they  had 
seen  the  families  leave  the  city  ?  " 

"I  don't  remember  their  names." 

"  Give  a  description  of  some  of  those  who  told  you 
they  had  seen  the  families  go." 

"  One  was  a  big  feller  with  a  slouched  hat." 

"  When  did  you  see  him  last  ?  " 

The  witness  began  to  glare  at  his  ruthless  tor- 
mentor. It  was  hopeless  to  think  of  finding  answers 
to  such  a  remorseless  torrent  of  questions. 

"  On  election  day.  I  sent  for  him  to  come  over," 
he  added,  by  way  of  embroidering  with  a  detail  as 
opportunity  offered. 

"  How  did  you  send  for  him  to  come,  if  you  did 
not  know  his  name  ?  " 

"I  asked  parties  if  parties  over  that  way  had 
voted,"  was  the  reply,  in  an  open  fury  which  the 
presiding  magistrate  sternly  repressed. 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  309 

"And  you  swear  that  this  is  as  true  as  any  other 
part  of  your  testimony  ?  " 

"  I  swear  that  it  is  all  true.  All  of  them  men  bin 
voters  ;  they  belong  from  Prussia  Poland ;  each  and 
every  one  of  'em  got  his  right  citizen  papers,  and  I 
know  'em  all  very  well,"  he  returned,  in  a  final  all- 
embracing  burst. 

"  Oh,  he  makes  me  tired,"  Welby  Goff  was  heard 
to  exclaim,  in  the  slang  of  the  day,  affecting  to  fall 
dramatically  on  the  back  of  his  chair.  Even  hard- 
ened counsel  sighed,  in  a  pensive  way.  But  Trap- 
schuh  was  not  yet  released  ;  he  had  still  to  be  ques- 
tioned as  to  making  the  boy  Nicodem  Kraska  vote. 
He  brazenly  insisted  that  Nicodem  was  of  age. 
When  asked  how  he  knew,  he  said  "  because  he 
looked  so."  The  boy's  mother,  Suzanka,  was  in 
court,  and  it  was  even  after  her  testimony  that  Trap- 
schuh  perpetrated  his  effrontery.  Suzanka  set  up  a 
loud  wailing,  and,  being  suppressed,  seemed  to  await 
his  coming  down  from  the  witness-stand  with  the 

O 

purpose  of  doing  him  a  bodily  injury. 

"  Have  you  advised  with  your  counsel  as  to  what 
you  were  to  say  in  this  case  ? "  Lane's  counsel 
thought  good  to  ask,  humorously,  to  cast  part  of  the 
odium  of  Trapschuh's  lying  upon  Rand. 

"  No,  he  advised  with  me,"  returned  Trapschuh, 
meaning  to  be  surly,  but  really  aiding,  the  design  in 
view  even  more  than  was  expected. 

Upon  this  he  was  allowed  to  retire,  and  he  stepped 
down,  abashed,  into  obscure  private  life,  from  the 
depths  of  which  it  was  long  indeed  before  he  again 
emerged. 


310  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

Barney  Trapschuh,  among  others,  was  examined 
in  las  turn.  Being  asked  why  he  signed  affidavits  as 
a  householder,  when  he  was  not  one,  he  said  naively 
that  he  had  understood  by  a  householder  "  a  person 
what  lived  in  a  house."  At  this,  Welby  Goff  nearly 
fell  on  the  floor,  once  more. 

Peter  Haller.  the  teamster,  testified  that  he  had 
certified  to  affidavits  of  a  large  number  of  persons 
he  had  never  seen  before,  because  "  they  looked 
honest." 

The  self-sufficient  little  notary,  Kroeger,  when  his 
turn  came,  was  found  to  have  resisted  the  summons 
first  sent  out  by  the  court,  and  to  have  been  brought 
in  under  arrest. 

"You  said  you  could  not  be  bothered  coming 
here,"  said  the  presiding  magistrate  to  him,  in  severe 
reproof.  "  You  went  to  a  wedding,  instead." 

"  I  knew  I  was  all  right,  and  there  was  n't  no  need 
for  me  to  come,"  he  responded  sullenly. 

"  That  remains  to  be  seen,"  said  the  judge.  And 
it  was  so  effectually  seen  that  Kroeger  was  shown  to 
be  one  of  the  most  heinous  offenders  on  the  entire 
list.  It  appeared  that,  through  informalities  in  the 
taking  out  of  his  commission,  he  was  not  even  a  qual- 
ified notary-public,  nor  competent  to  certify  any  affi- 
davits whatever.  Here  at  the  very  Johannisberger 
House,  the  seat  of  his  majestic  egotism  and  claims  to 
oracular  wisdom,  the  little  man  was  so  thoroughly 
impugned  in  all  the  sources  of  his  authority  that  he 
could  never  hold  his  head  aloft  again.  In  fine,  the 
cases  of  the  voters  delayed  by  the  arts  of  the  inspec- 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  311 

tors  at  the  Railroad  Avenue  precinct  were  taken  up, 
and  argued  at  great  length.  It  was  claimed  that 
there  had  been  over  forty  of  these  men,  all  provided 
with  Lane  ballots,  so  that,  by  the  fraudulent  prac- 
tices named,  many  votes  were  lost  to  that  candidate. 
Without  doubt,  the  enterprise  of  Barclay  and  the 
testimony  of  Stanislava  had  been  the  two  elements, 
in  these  complications,  that  had  carried  the  balance 
to  the  side  of  David  Lane,  and  procured  the  final 
verdict  in  his  favor.  He  was  forced  to  owe  his  tri- 
umph to  the  children  of  those  victims  of  the  Chip- 
pewa  Street  bridge  whose  death  was  the  cause  even 
of  this  political  strife. 


XV. 

DAVID  LANE'S  ATTEMPT  AT  FREEDOM. 

AT  the  customary  time,  as  fixed  by  the  city  char- 
ter, —  it  was  towards  the  end  of  April,  —  Paul  Bar- 
clay took  his  seat  in  the  new  board  of  aldermen.  His 
reputation  for  the  active,  managing  sort  of  ability,  as 
well  as  for  financial  soundness,  had  preceded  him. 
He  was  well  received,  and  put  at  once  upon  some  of 
the  more  important  standing  committees. 

Among  other  matters,  at  this  first  regular  meeting 
of  the  year,  a  combination  was  discovered  to  take 
away  the  city  printing  from  Ives  Wilson  and  his  In- 
dex. Set  on  foot  by  his  usual  adversaries  in  the  other 
papers,  it  was  aided  by  some  as  a  punishment  for  his 
course  in  bolting  the  nominations  of  his  party  con- 
vention, and  by  others  who  had  been  made  the  ob- 
jects of  some  of  his  embittered  journalism.  That 
sprightly  person  was  alive  to  his  danger,  however, 
and  fought  it  tooth  and  nail.  It  almost  seemed  as  if 
he  could  be  in  half  a  dozen  places  at  once,  as,  with 
the  lock  of  hair  streaming  back  from  the  apex  of  his 
head  like  an  oriflamme,  he  moved  from  desk  to  desk 
among  the  aldermen,  —  in  whose  part  of  the  council 
chamber,  by  the  way,  he  had  no  business  to  be  at  all, 
—  strengthening  the  weak,  joking  with  his  firmer 
friends,  and  even  making  propositions  for  their  sup- 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  313 

port  to  the  less  pronounced  of  his  enemies.  When 
the  vote  was  taken,  he  had  retained  his  patronage  by 
a  majority  of  but  two.  This  was  so  close  that  his 
contemporaries  of  the  press  assured  him  that  it  ought 
to  be  a  terrible  warning  to  him,  at  least,  henceforth 
to  keep  a  civil  point  to  his  pen  and  less  gall  in  his 
inkstand.  But  Ives  Wilson  did  not  take  it  at  all  in 
this  light.  He  announced  his  success,  in  the  Index, 
as  a  triumphant  "  vindication,"  and  he  began  imme- 
diately a  more  trenchant  course  of  abuse  than  ever 
before. 

An  interregnum  of  something  like  two  months  now 
ensued.  Pending  the  contest  between  the  rival  claim- 
ants for  mayor,  the  president  of  the  aldermen  con- 
tinued to  govern  the  city.  What  with  all  the  delays 
incident  to  the  decision,  it  was  nearly  July,  instead  of 
April,  before  the  right  of  David  Lane  was  finally 
recognized,  and  he  was  installed  in  his  chair. 

While  his  fate  had  still  hung  in  the  balance  he  had 
perceptibly  wasted,  and  grown  older  and  feebler. 
The  two  months  of  suspense  were  among  the  keener 
forms  of  his  punishment.  For  a  while  it  had  ap- 
peared that  he  was  not  to  have  even  the  desperate 
chance  of  attempting  his  wild  and  difficult  project. 
During  this  time  he  had  thought  vaguely  whether  he 
might  not  cause  to  be  introduced  into  the  board  of 
aldermen  a  resolution  calling  for  the  repair  of  the 
Golden  Justice  ;  counting  that,  when  once  scaffold- 
ings were  up,  some  laborer  might  be  corrupted,  and 
induced  to  seize  the  ardently  coveted  paper  for  him. 
He  had  thought,  also,  of  engaging  the  janitor ;  but 


314  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

the  worthy  Anton  Klopp  was  a  wheezy  individual, 
even  less  capable,  physically,  than  himself.  And  then 
the  statue  needed  no  repairing;  it  would  easily  be 
discovered  to  be  in  excellent  condition.  And,  again, 
even  if  it  were  not,  he  had  decided,  years  before,  that 
he  dared  trust  his  secret  to  no  one.  But  behold  him, 
at  last,  in  possession  of  the  poor  vantage-ground  he 
had  sought,  and  relieved  of  this  source  of  anxiety. 

The  inauguration  of  a  mayor,  always  a  stirring  af- 
fair in  political  circles,  was  made  especially  important 
on  the  present  occasion  by  the  character  of  the  events 
that  had  preceded  it.  There  were  deferred  appoint- 
ments to  office  to  be  made,  and  a  mass  of  difficult 
business  had  also  been  diplomatically  deferred,  to  fall 
upon  the  shoulders  of  the  new  incumbent. 

A  general  amnesty  had  been  tacitly  decreed  for 
the  irregularities  of  the  late  election.  Both  sides  had 
so  equally  participated  in  them  that  all  might  be 
considered  as  tarred  with  the  same  stick.  Measures 
of  legislation  were  at  once  introduced,  however,  to 
prevent  the  recurrence  of  such  abuses  in  the  future. 

With  as  sharp  a  feeling  of  self-reproach  as  his  pre- 
occupation left  him  for  anything  less  engrossing, 
David  Lane  recognized  how  largely  he,  the  assumed 
model  of  probity,  had  been  responsible  for  this  cor- 
ruption of  the  public  virtue.  All  evil  deeds  seemed 
to  follow  upon  his  first,  in  direct  sequence,  as  if  he 
were  another  Macbeth.  He  delivered  his  brief  in- 
augural address  in  the  chamber  of  the  aldermen,  then 
gravely  received  some  hand-shakings  of  congratula- 
tion as  he  stepped  from  the  tribune,  and  then  with- 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  315 

drew  to  his  office.  He  was  followed  thither  by  some 
persons  connected  with  the  accumulated  business,  and 
for  a  considerable  time  had  to  hold  a  levee  in  the 
spacious  room  ;  but  one  by  one  these  visitors  dropped 
off,  and,  as  the  twilight  drew  on,  he  was  at  last  quite 
alone. 

He  gave  a  long,  heavy  sigh,  —  conveying  both  re- 
lief and  a  newly  arising  form  of  trouble,  —  and  threw 
himself  down  in  his  chair.  The  first  step  in  his  pro- 
posed deliverance  was  accomplished.  He  was  free  to 
come  and  go,  and  to  remain  and  plan  his  projects  in 
the  building  without  question  from  any  quarter.  Soon 
he  bent  forward  again,  and,  leaning  his  arm  on  his 
desk  and  his  face  on  his  hand,  remained  a  long  time 
in  that  position,  suggesting  the  brooding  Lorenzo, 
who  looks  down  from  above  the  famous  tombs  of  the 
Medici  at  Florence.  He  had  brought  with  him,  even 
on  this  first  day,  some  of  the  tools  for  his  exploit. 
He  placed  these  safely  in  a  drawer  of  the  desk.  On 
the  morrow  he  would  bring  the  others.  He  paced 
the  floor  meditatively,  and  lightly  tested,  by  turns,  the 
muscles  of  his  legs  and  arms,  as  he  had  done  once 
before,  on  a  previous  occasion.  On  the  morrow,  too, 
there  would  be  delivered  to  him  here  a  light  grap- 
pling-ladder,  already  ordered  ;  tall  enough,  as  he  said, 
to  reach  to  the  uppermost  of  his  high  book-shelves. 

For  the  next  few  days,  as  he  walked  to  the  city 
hall  for  his  appointed  tasks,  —  and  in  many  a  slow 
jaunt  about  the  square,  for  the  special  purpose,  —  his 
eye  fearfully  sought  the  Golden  Justice  ;  his  brain 
estimated  heights,  distances,  times,  and  forecast  the 


316  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

position  of  his  ladder  and  all  his  own  movements 
when  at  last  he  should  find  himself  there  aloft,  where 
he  had  so  long  desired  to  be.  Now,  when  actually 
face  to  face  with  his  undertaking,  its  sheer  physical 
obstacles  loomed  up  before  him  with  the  most  for- 
midable difficulty.  "  I  am  an  old,  old  man  !  "  he 
would  mutter.  He  put  off  its  execution  yet  another 
day,  and  another,  and  at  last  he  was  taken  with  a  sort 
of  paralysis  of  supreme  discouragement;  he  revolted 
against  the  problem  before  him  in  utter  despair.  The 
shining  figure  seemed  to  mock  him ;  high  aloft  there 
in  the  blue  empyrean,  it  swam  before  his  eyes,  hope- 
lessly unattainable  by  any  puny  efforts  of  his. 

"  I  cannot  do  it,  —  I  will  not  do  it !  "  he  cried  out 
to  himself,  all  but  demented.  "  It  is  impossible.  Let 
them  wait." 

His  manner  at  home,  during  a  great  part  of  this 
long  delay,  had  been  strained,  abstracted,  and  uncom- 
fortable. Barclay  had  come  there  rather  upon  suf- 
ferance than  as  a  welcome  guest,  and  had  repiued 
and  fumed  under  the  situation  with  ever-increasing 
impatience.  Lane  had  made  no  concession  to  the 
object  for  which  the  lovers  were  waiting ;  he  had 
held  obstinately  to  the  letter  of  his  words.  Mrs. 
Varemberg  had  once  or  twice  taken  the  initiative 
upon  herself,  and  addressed  him  a  few  words,  but 
only  to  be  repulsed.  He  had  answered  her  that  he 
was  thinking  of  it. 

"Are  you  indeed  thinking  of  it  deeply?  Does  it 
require  so  much  consideration  ?"  she  had  demanded. 

"  Yes,  believe  me,  I  am  considering  it  deeply." 


THE  G  OLDEN  J UU  TICE.  317 

On  the  momentous  day,  when  he  came  home  op- 
pressed by  utter  lassitude  and  despair,  as  described, 
it  chanced  that  she  spoke  to  him  again.  She  had, 
up  to  that  time,  preserved  a  very  long  silence.  They 
had  only  their  own  company  at  dinner,  Mrs.  Clinton 
being  absent. 

"  Papa,"  began  Mrs.  Varemberg. 

Her  father  knew  at  once  what  was  coming,  and 
he  evaded  her  large  and  earnest  eyes,  which  were 
raised  appealingly  to  his. 

"  I  did  not  think  I  should  have  to  be  the  one  to 
speak  first,"  she  said,  "  but  a  week  has  now  passed 
since  you  became  mayor ;  the  condition  upon  which 
you  insisted  is  fulfilled,  and  yet  —  and  yet  "  —  She 
arose  before  she  added  more,  and,  coming  in  a  coax- 
ing way  around  to  his  side  of  the  table,  rested  her 
hand  on  his  shoulder.  "  And  yet,"  she  went  on, 
"  you  say  nothing  of  the  subject  that  is  the  nearest 
and  dearest  to  the  heart  of  Paul  and  myself." 

He  affected  at  first  not  quite  to  know  what  she 
was  talking  about. 

"  I  mean  your  promise,  papa,  that  you  would  de- 
cide as  soon  as  you  were  elected.  Paul  and  I  have 
been  waiting  so  patiently.  Will  you  not  let  me  send 
him  word  of  your  favorable  answer  to-day  ?  I  know 
you  have  been  doing  all  this  only  to  try  us,  to  see 
if  we  are  really  earnest  in  our  affection." 

David  Lane  was  suffering  the  tortures  of  the 
damned.  He  repulsed  her  caressing  hand  from  his 
shoulder  almost  rudely,  arose,  moved  back  from  his 
chair  in  a  staggering,  stupefied  way,  and  then,  collect- 


318  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

ing  his  faculties,  said,  "  Yes,  I  recall  the  matter  now. 
Well,  I  have  decided  against  it.  I  cannot  consent." 

"  You  cannot  consent  ?  "  Mrs.  Varemberg  mur- 
mured, trembling,  incredulous. 

"  I  cannot  give  my  approval  to  your  marriage  with 
Paul  Barclay." 

"  Oh,  what  is  this  ?  What  does  it  all  mean  ? "  she 
gasped. 

He  seemed  to  feel  it  necessary  to  give  some  answer, 
and,  casting  about,  he  found  a  wretched  excuse. 

"  He  was  opposed  to  my  election.  I  —  I  have  it 
from  the  very  best  authority." 

And  he  proceeded  to  cite  the  episode,  reported  by 
Ives  Wilson,  of  Barclay's  having  refused  to  brow- 
beat his  men  in  their  voting. 

"I  have  heard  that  story,  too.  I  honor  him, 
rather,  as  you  would  once  have  done,  for  having  been 
one  of  the  few  to  resist  political  corruption,  even 
in  his  own  interest.  For  your  interest  was  his. 
Was  he  not  one  of  your  strongest  supporters  ?  What 
would  you  have  done  without  him,  in  the  contest  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  I  am  harsh,  unrelenting,  but  I  have 
made  up  my  mind.  I  —  I  cannot  forgive  him." 

"  Forgive  him  ?  May  Heaven  forgive  you  all  the 
harm  you  have  done  us  both,"  rejoined  his  daughter, 
with  a  noble  air  of  indignation  and  contempt,  and 
she  prepared  to  withdraw  from  the  room.  "  I  call 
you  no  longer  my  father.  I  do  not  know  what  your 
motives  can  be,  but  my  father  would  never  have 
acted  so.  Let  this  be  my  farewell.  I  shall  leave 
your  house  as  soon  as  is  possible." 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  319 

'•  Where  will  you  go  ?  What  will  you  do  ?  "  he 
demanded  in  alarm,  aroused  to  his  full  faculties,  as 
an  intoxicated  man  is  often  sobered  by  some  sudden 
shock. 

"  I  do  not  know.  I  will  place  myself  under  pro- 
tection, and  when  a  suitable  time  has  expired  I  will 
marry  Paul  Barclay." 

"  Will  you  go  to  him  without  money  ?  Will  you 
throw  yourself  as  a  burden  upon  him  ?  " 

She  was  staggered  a  moment  by  this  consideration, 
but,  recovering  herself,  she  answered,  — 

"  Yes  ;  he  loves  me.  He  alone  of  all  the  world 
wishes  me  well ;  to  him  alone  my  happiness  is  dear. 
He  will  not  look  at  it  so." 

"  Florence  !  "  cried  David  Lane,  and  this  time  he 
stretched  out  his  arms  towards  her  pleadingly.  She 
had  opposed  to  him  at  last  an  obstinacy  and  hardness 
of  heart  equal  to  his  own.  This  unnatural  casting 
off  by  his  own  daughter  wholly  unnerved  and  broke 
him  down.  "This  from  you,"  he  said,  —  "my  dar- 
ling, my  child,  the  one  always  so  dear  to  me  ;  you 
whom  I  held  in  my  arms  as  a  baby,  whom  I  nursed 
through  sickness  ;  you  who  made  me  the  confidant 
of  all  your  joys  and  troubles,  who  were  always  so 
sure  of  my  affection,  as  you  must  be  sure  of  it  even 
now  ?  " 

"  Then  why,  papa  ?  then  why,  papa  ?  "  she  asked, 
incoherently.  She  was  easily  touched,  and  quick  to 
forgiveness  and  reconciliation. 

David  Lane  then  had  the  impulse  to  tell  her  all 
of  his  sad  story.  But  he  only  exclaimed  again,  much 
as  he  had  on  a  former  occasion,  — 


320  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

"  I  must  have  yet  a  little  time.  Wait  till  you  see 
me  again.  To-morrow  —  perhaps  it  will  be  different. 
Oh,  I  assure  you,  you  shall  have  reasons  to-morrow." 

The  die  was  cast.  No  more  vacillations,  no  more 
shilly-shally.  He  had  determined  once  for  all  that 
his  attempt  at  freedom  should  be  carried  into  effect 
that  very  night. 

When  all  the  other  public  officials  had  left  the  city 
hall,  the  conscientious  new  mayor  was  still  at  his 
office,  and  apparently  plunged  up  to  the  eyes  in  the 
mass  of  unfinished  business  there  accumulated. 

He  was  still  immersed  in  it,  when  the  janitor  made 
his  rounds  to  close  up  the  building,  towards  ten 
o'clock.  That  rotund  functionary  put  his  head  in 
once  more  in  a  deferential  way,  at  eleven  o'clock, 
having  waited  up  expressly  an  hour  later  than  usual 
to  see  if  anything  might  be  wanted  of  him. 

"No,  no,  Klopp,  don't  mind  me,"  returned  David 
Lane  cheerily.  "  I  '11  probably  be  through  in  a  few 
minutes.  Go  to  bed.  I  '11  let  myself  out  by  the 
small  door.  And,  in  any  event,  don't  let  me  give 
you  the  least  bit  of  trouble." 

"  He 's  a  pretty  good  feller,  and  a  hard-workin' 
feller  for  mayor,  zure,"  soliloquized  Klopp  to  him- 
self. 

He  gladly  availed  himself  of  the  permission  ac- 
corded him,  and  after  banging  a  door  or  two  and 
rattling  a  great  poker  in  the  vicinity  of  the  furnaces, 
in  the  regions  below-stairs,  he  was  soon  snoring  in 
the  midst  of  his  family,  who  occupied  the  quarters 
assigned  them  in  the  basement. 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  321 

For  perhaps  an  hour  longer  the  mayor  bent  over 
his  official  tasks.  He  paused  from  time  to  time,  to 
listen.  Finally  he  swept  his  papers  aside,  rose,  and 
began  to  pace  the  floor,  pressing  a  hand  upon  his 
heart,  as  if  to  check  its  accelerated  beatings.  He  had 
already  drawn  the  shades  and  tightly  closed  the  shut- 
ters of  the  apartment,  that  no  curious  eye,  if  any 
were  so  disposed,  might  look  in  upon  his  proceedings. 
He  now  took  from  their  place  of  deposit  the  tools  he 
had  prepared,  an  array  of  sharp-cutting  drills  and 
saws,  unhooked  the  new  grappling-ladder  from  the 
high  shelf,  and  lighted  and  extinguished  once  or 
twice  a  small  dark  lantern,  to  see  that  it  was  in 
working  order. 

Then  he  divested  himself  of  a  part  of  his  clothing 
and  put  on  shoes  of  listing,  for  greater  celerity  and 
stealthiness  in  his  proposed  movements.  Thus  par- 
tially disrobed,  it  could  be  seen  that  his  was  indeed 
no  figure  for  great  athletic  undertakings.  The  work 
before  him  was  of  a  kind  to  try  even  youthful  and 
robust  capacity,  and  he  looked,  as  he  was,  old  and 
crippled  in  his  joints  by  his  maladies.  The  excite- 
ment of  the  occasion  gave  him  an  unwonted  briskness 
and  color,  it  is  true,  and  he  gathered  further  strength 
from  another  source.  Pie  drew  forth  a  flask,  and 
took  a  long  pull  at  it.  At  the  last  moment,  another. 
So  there  !  aid  from  any  quarter  is  welcome  in  the 
supreme  effort  of  one's  life. 

He  heard  a  sudden  dash  of  rain  against  his  win- 
dows, followed  by  the  rumble  of  distant  thunder,  and 
immediately  after  the  cathedral  clock  struck  one. 


322  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

The  moment  for  action  had  come.  Rain  ?  So  much 
the  better !  Under  the  cover  of  storm  and  darkness, 
his  movements  must  be  hidden  from  any  possible  ob- 
servation, his  expedition  must  be  doubly  secure. 

He  opened  the  door  of  his  apartment,  and  set  foot 
in  the  corridor  without,  but,  on  the  instant,  stepped 
back  again  in  affright.  The  vacant  halls  seemed  full 
of  stealthy  whisperings  and  light  footsteps.  Surely 
they  were  stealing  along  there  to  spy  upon  him.  A 
dread  haunted  him  of  some  ghostly  circle  of  witnesses 
gathered  around  the  balcony  of  the  rotunda  of  the 
central  dome,  and  waiting  to  flash  a  full  light  of  rec- 
ognition upon  him  and  break  out  into  jeers  and 
laughter  at  his  attempt.  He  stood  for  some  time 
within,  listening  with  painful  intentness.  At  last  he 
made  sure  that  all  this  was  but  the  sound  of  the  rain 
and  the  draughts  of  air  which  wandered  uninter- 
rupted at  night  through  the  empty  spaces  of  the 
great  city  hall. 

Thereupon  he  set  forth  with  a  renewed  confidence. 
He  passed  in  turn  the  office-doors  of  the  comptroller, 
the  tax  commissioner,  the  treasurer.  What  would 
his  trusty  subordinates  have  thought  of  him,  their 
mayor,  could  they  have  but  seen  him  thus,  gliding  by 
like  some  phantom  of  the  night?  He  recalled  the 
story  of  that  German  burgomaster,  who  was  wont  to 
prowl  in  the  dark,  armed  with  a  long  knife,  over  the 
roofs  of  the  houses,  committing  robberies  and  mur- 
ders, and  the  next  day,  in  his  staid  official  capacity, 
to  conduct  the  inquiries  as  to  the  best  means  of  seiz- 
ing the  assassins.  He  likened  himself  to  him,  and 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  323 

apprehended  a  similar  exposure.  He  had  to  sit  down 
arid  rest  several  times,  overcome  with  fatigue,  as  he 
mounted  the  principal  staircase. 

"  An  old,  old  man !  "  he  would  murmur ;  but  it 
was  in  a  patient,  almost  mechanical  way  now,  and 
with  no  thought  of  relinquishing  his  undertaking. 

Once  arrived  in  the  upper  stories,  he  breathed 
more  freely  ;  the  danger  of  any  personal  encounter, 
at  least,  seemed  here  got  rid  of.  He  gave  himself, 
too,  a  fuller  benefit  of  his  lantern  than  he  had  hith- 
erto dared  to  do.  Once,  however,  he  hastily  dashed 
the  dark  slide  across  it,  and  crouched  against  the 
wall,  while  his  heart  leaped  into  his  mouth.  He  was 
on  the  second  staircase,  which  he  had  partially 
mounted,  and  distinctly  heard  a  step  coming  down  it. 
Who  could  it  be  ?  Who  could  possibly  be  abroad  at 
such  an  hour  ?  Was  it  perhaps  one  of  Klopp's  chil- 
dren, dispatcher!  thither  on  some  unheard-of  errand  ? 
Was  it  some  somnambulist,  walking  in  those  regions 
in  his  sleep  ?  Was  it  an  apparition  ?  Old  supersti- 
tious stories  of  his  childhood,  in  which  he  did  not  in 
the  least  believe,  came  back  to  David  Lane,  and  for 
the  nonce  took  a  certain  reality. 

The  footstep  still  came  downward,  dropping  from 
stair  to  stair  with  an  uncertain  sort  of  tread.  The 
presence,  whatever  it  was,  was  close  at  hand,  was 
passing  him.  He  struck  out,  in  uncontrollable  af- 
fright, in  the  direction  whence  it  sounded,  and  en- 
countered nothing.  But  at  the  same  moment  a  leap- 
ing and  tumbling  as  of  some  animal  was  heard  below 
him,  and,  flashing  his  dark  lantern,  he  saw  a  large 


324  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

rat.  It  had  been  coming  down  with  a  billet  of  wood, 
which  was  attached  to  a  scrap  of  leather,  and,  being 
discovered,  it  scurried  precipitately  away  into  one  of 
the  great  dusty  attics  at  the  side.  He  had  no  sur- 
plus force  to  stand  such  useless  drains,  but  he  soon 
collected  himself,  and  climbed  on. 

At  the  balcony  where  he  had  once  held  his  inter- 
view with  Paul  Barclay,  he  stopped  a  moment,  to 
look  out  upon  the  night.  It  was  raining  steadily, 
and  the  darkness  was  even  thicker  than  he  could 
have  desired.  Thence  onward  again,  passing  through 
a  minor  door  or  two,  which  he  opened  with  duplicate 
keys  and  locked  behind  him,  to  a  region  where  dust 
and  cobwebs  were  rarely  disturbed.  Thence  up 
lengths  of  ladder-like  stairway,  up  a  spiral  one  twin- 
ing interminably  round  a  central  post,  and,  at  length, 
a  steep  ladder,  which  ended  at  the  small  trap  door 
through  which  he  must  make  his  final" exit  upon  the 
dome.  Twice  he  painfully  climbed  this  last,  once  to 
throw  open  the  trap  door,  and  again  to  bring  up  his 
scaling-ladder  and  general  budget. 

At  this  point,  he  stood  with  his  head  and  shoulders 
—  the  rain  falling  upon  him  unhindered  —  projecting 
through  a  small  opening  in  the  roof  of  the  cupola 
which  surmounted  the  principal  dome.  He  was  just 
above  the  level  of  its  cornice,  which  constituted  a 
flat  ledge  of  considerable  width.  Above  him,  close  at 
hand,  but  raised  a  considerable  distance  still,  by  her 
globular  base,  towered  the  long-sought  Golden  Justice. 
David  Lane  thrilled  at  the  strange  proximity,  and 
it  was  some  time  before  he  could  exert  himself  to 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  325 

find  a  safe  place  for  his  effects,  on  the  cornice. 
Next,  raising  himself  by  means  of  his  hands  and 
arms,  he  accomplished  the  feat  —  that  would  have 
seemed  all  but  incredible  to  disabilities  like  his  —  of 
climbing  out  through  the  opening.  He  stretched 
himself  briefly  to  rest.  The  cathedral  clock  beside 
him  in  the  air  struck  two,  —  he  had  consumed  an 
hour  in  making  the  ascent.  He  had  been  drenched 
to  the  skin  in  the  very  first  few  moments,  and  the 
ledge  where  he  lay  would  have  required  steady 
nerves  to  remain  comfortably  upon  it  even  in  broad 
daylight. 

He  delayed  only  for  a  short  breathing  space,  but 
soon  planted  his  scaling-ladder  against  the  foot  of  the 
statue,  catching  its  hooks  in  the  folds  of  the  drapery 
as  best  he  could.  The  wind  and  rain  beat  violently 
upon  him  as  he  mounted  it,  as  if  in  remonstrance,  as 
wild  birds  beat  back  with  their  wings  the  bold  ma- 
rauder who  has  climbed  to  rifle  their  nests. 

The  ladder  slipped  a  trifle,  but  caught  again,  and 
in  this  instant  he  had  a  paralyzed  sense  or  vision  of 
himself,  found,  the  next  morning,  dashed  to  pieces 
on  the  roofs  below,  with  the  paraphernalia  of  his 
mission  about  him.  He  saw  the  profound  sensation 
he  created  among  his  neighbors,  and  could  even  fore- 
cast the  columns  of  moving  description,  accompanied 
by  diagrams  in  illustration,  in  which  the  newspapers 
—  the  Index  in  particular  —  would  indulge.  He  ar- 
rived safely,  nevertheless,  at  the  base  of  the  statue. 
Examining  it  with  his  lantern,  he  found,  as  well  as 
his  memory  could  serve  him,  after  the  lapse  of  so 


326  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

many  years,  the  vicinity  of  the  place  where  the  pa- 
per had  been  sealed  up.  Steadying  himself  more 
firmly  on  the  top  round  of  the  ladder,  he  began  his 
search.  He  first  effected  an  opening  through  the 
metal,  and  then  began  to  enlarge  this  with  his  chisels 
aud  saws.  He  thought  well  to  give  the  edges  of  the 
opening  an  irregular  aud  ragged  appearance. 

"  Should  investigation  ever  arise,"  he  said  to  him- 
self, '•  the  cut  will  be  attributed  to  lightning." 

His  saw  presently  ran  against  a  stout  brace  inside 
the  metal  sheathing.  It  incommoded  him  greatly,  in 
the  section  he  was  trying  to  cut  out,  and,  unable  to 
avoid  it,  he  at  length  cut  squarely  across  it,  dividing 
it.  From  time  to  time,  as  he  wrought,  an  illuminat- 
ing flash  of  lightning  showed  him  the  city,  spread  out 
far  below  his  dizzy  height,  and  anon  the  darkness 
swallowed  it  up  again,  as  if  it  had  been  only  a  vision. 
By  turns  his  hand  seemed  endowed  with  an  unnatural 
strength  by  the  stimulus  of  the  reward  so  near  at 
hand,  and  again  it  was  all  but  nerveless  and  incapable. 
A  long  probe  he  carried  finally  struck  something 
hard  within,  which  he  knew  to  be  the  box  containing 
the  documents.  The  focus  of  his  hopes  and  fears,  the 
pivotal  point  of  his  imagination  and  his  destiny  for 
so  long  a  period,  was  reached.  He  had  but  to  stretch 
forth  and  grasp  the"  prize.  He  drew  back  a  little  to 
wipe  his  brow,  braced  himself  more  firmly,  and  pre- 
pared to  do  so. 

But  at  this  very  moment  his  forces  failed,  and  he 
succumbed  to  an  overpowering  sense  of  exhaustion. 
Overtasked  nature  could  do  no  more.  If  the  prom- 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  327 

ised  reward  had  been  infinitely  greater,  he  could  not 
have  secured  it.  Hardly  knowing  how,  he  slipped 
and  fell,  rather  than  climbed,  down  his  ladder,  and  lay 
supine,  more  dead  than  alive,  on  the  narrow  cornice 
ledge  once  more.  The  rain  still  pelted  him,  but  he 
paid  it  no  heed. 

He  rose,  after  a  time,  and  feebly  renewed  the  strug- 
gle ;  but  the  conviction  was  remorselessly  forced  up- 
on him  that  his  labors  were  vain,  and  the  attempt 
must  be  put  off  to  another  occasion.  By  what  miracle 
was  it  that  he  was  able  at  last  to  effect  his  retreat  ? 
He  decorously  covered,  too,  all  his  tracks,  taking  great 
pains  to  hide  his  ladder  and  other  properties  in  the 
vacant  attics,  where  they  would  be  secure  from  sight. 
He  made  his  way  painfully  downward  by  the  same 
long  and  devious  route,  stole  as  before  along  the  great 
dark  corridors,  and  entered  once  more  his  own  office. 
He  was  so  exhausted  by  overwhelming  fatigue  that^ 
he  had  scarce  left  in  his  body  capacity  for  any  effort, 
or  in  his  brain  for  a  lucid  idea.  Hardly  was  he  there, 
when,  throwing  himself  down,  he  was  lost  in  pro- 
found slumber. 

Paul  Barclay,  as  a  means  of  tiding  over  the  dreary 
period  of  probation,  had  thrown  himself  most  energet- 
ically, of  late,  into  the  duties  of  his  new  official  posi- 
tion. All  was  arranged  between  him  and  Mrs.  Var- 
emberg  ;  they  belonged  to  each  other,  and  nothing 
could  ever  sunder  them,  but  still  they  were  kept 
apart.  Each  day  in  succession  he  had  hung  upon  the 
prospect  of  hearing  some  favorable  tidings  from  her, 


328  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

and  day  after  day  had  been  disappointed.  So  long  a 
time  had  elapsed,  with  all  these  delays,  that  his  pri- 
vate view  \vus  that  the  narrow  conventionality  which 
would  have  prevented  the  announcement  of  their  en- 
gagement to  the  world,  provided  they  had  received 
the  coveted  permission,  need  have  little  further  bind- 
ing force ;  but  this  permission  was  still  withheld. 
Mrs.  Varemberg  had  checked  her  lover's  impatience, 
more  than  once,  with  her  appeal :  "  Let  us  be  wiser 
than  he,  dear  Paul.  It  is  for  a  lifetime." 

It  seemed  fair,  at  least,  to  await  the  end  of  these 
political  complications,  but  Barclay  was  vaguely  op- 
pressed by  fears  and  premonitions  of  new  forms  of  evil. 
He  found  himself  affected  by  somewhat  the  same  un- 
easy feeling  as  the  commander  who,  though  sending 
his  squadrons  in  pursuit  of  a  flying  enemy,  cannot  be 
wholly  sure  that  the  victory  may  not  yet  be  wrested 
from  him,  in  some  unexpected  quarter. 

On  a  certain  night,  he  had  returned  to  his  lodging 
at  a  late  hour.  He  was  fatigued  with  a  hard  day's 
work  in  inspecting  the  scene  of  proposed  street  open- 
ings in  the  northern  part  of  the  town,  and  had  more 
of  the  same  awaiting  him  on  the  morrow,  but  he  was 
unable  to  sleep.  To  relieve  his  wakefulness,  he  arose 
at  intervals,  and  read  and  wrote,  or  meditatively 
paced  the  floor.  It  so  happened,  on  this  account, 
that  he  was  at  the  window  of  his  chamber  towards 
the  hour  of  three  in  the  morning.  He  threw  up  the 
sash,  though  it  was  raining  heavily,  and  looked  forth 
into  the  night,  to  cool  the  fever  in  his  head.  He  said 
to  himself  complaiuingly  that  there  was  something 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  329 

oppressive  and  portentous  in  the  atmosphere,  some- 
thing sultry  even  in  the  rain.  He  distinctly  felt  cur- 
rents of  air  blow  alternately  warm  and  cool  on  his 
face.  There  had  been  many  things,  in  fact,  rather  ab- 
normal about  the  season.  There  had  been  not  only  a 
peculiar  spring,  but  a  peculiar  summer.  Nothing,  he 
thought,  seemed  any  longer  as  it  used  to  be.  There 
had  been,  of  late,  eclipses,  solar  and  lunar,  and  ex- 
traordinary auroral  displays.  A  large,  greenish  me- 
teor had  passed  over,  and  burst  with  a  loud  report. 
Tornadoes  had  been  noted  in  the  lower  part  of  the 
State,  considerably  out  of  their  usual  course.  Fortu- 
nately, they  never  came  to  Keevvaydin.  These  por- 
tents, it  may  be  said,  in  passing,  seemed  to  warm  the 
very  cockles  of  the  heart  of  old  Fahnenstock.  That 
veteran  workman  appeared  almost  gleeful  in  the  con- 
viction that  the  world  was  now  coming  to  its  end,  in 
very  short  order,  albeit  he  was  himself  enjoying  the 
most  comfortable  existence  he  had  ever  known,  in 
the  little  cottage  at  Whitefish  Bay,  to  which  he  had 
been  assisted  by  Paul  Barclay. 

But  of  Fahnenstock  more  anon.  As  Barclay  now 
looked  from  his  window,  raising  his  eyes  aloft,  he  all 
at  once  fancied  he  saw  gleams  of  reddish  light  playing 
about  the  base  of  the  Golden  Justice.  It  was  not 
lightning :  it  was  much  too  feeble  and  too  deliberate, 
even  while  fitful,  for  that.  He  had  looked  out  at  the 
time  when  David  Lane  was  cautiously  availing  him- 
self of  his  dark  lantern. 

"  Can  it  be  electric  fires  ?  Is  the  air  so  full  of  elec- 
tricity as  that  ?  "  speculated  Barclay. 


330  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

The  storm  centre  was  moving  hither.  There  came 
presently  some  flashes  of  real  lightning,  —  flashes  of 
an  unusually  vivid  sort,  that  made  all  the  raindrops 
glitter  on  the  background  of  the  night  like  showers 
of  falling  diamonds.  Its  illumination  showed,  too, 
the  little  park  across  the  way,  and  the  city  hall  in 
every  detail.  The  statue  on  its  dome  was  as  effulgent 
as  at  noonday ;  and  then  —  strange  illusion  !  —  there 
was  the  figure  of  a  man  with  a  ladder,  crouched  dark- 
ly at  the  foot  of  it.  Barclay  rubbed  his  eyes  in  as- 
tonishment, and  waited  for  new  flashes.  He  took  up 
his  field-glass,  which  lay  conveniently  at  hand,  and 
devoted  himself  to  a  steady  examination.  For  a  little 
time,  by  the  fitful  illuminations,  the  shape  seemed 
still  there ;  and,  stranger  yet,  wilder  yet  (was  there 
ever  a  madder  conceit  ?  ),  it  had  a  far-off  resemblance 
to  David  Lane.  The  coruscations  of  lightning  grew 
farther  apart,  as  Barclay  watched  so  eagerly.  The 
sky  cleared  somewhat  behind  the  statue,  and  aided 
the  view  ;  but  now,  rub  his  eyes  as  he  would,  he  could 
see  nothing  of  the  figure;  it  had  disappeared. 

"  Pshaw  !  "  he  muttered,  turning  away.  "  It  was 
some  deceptive  trick  of  the  light,  or  of  my  own  imag- 
ination." 

He  soon  went  back  to  bed,  and,  to  make  up  for 
his  late  vigils,  he  slept  heavily  in  the  morning,  and 
did  not  awake  till  an  advanced  hour.  He  had  a  drive 
of  considerable  extent  before  him,  to  inspect,  as  mem- 
ber of  the  aldermanic  committee,  a  right  of  way  to  be 
acquired  for  the  purpose  of  bringing  in  a  small,  clear 
lake  at  the  northward,  to  add  to  the  water  supply  of 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  331 

the  city.  Just  as  he  had  completed  his  preparations 
for  it,  a  message  was  brought  him  from  Mrs.  Var- 
emberg,  anxiously  worded,  and  asking  him  to  come 
to  her  as  soon  as  possible.  He  accordingly  drove 
to  her  house  before  he  should  set  out  upon  his  ex- 
pedition. 

Meanwhile,  the  rosy-fingered  Aurora,  and  the  less 
rosy-fingered  hours  of  the  later  morning  as  well,  had 
looked  in  upon  David  Lane,  and  passed  over  his 
lethargic  slumbers  without  awaking  him.  There 
might  even  have  been  some  heavy  knocks  at  his  door, 
and  fumbling  by  the  janitor's  duplicate  key,  without 
his  hearing  them.  When  he  again  set  foot  in  the 
corridors  of  the  city  hall  all  the  ordinary  business  of 
the  day  had  long  been  in  progress.  Those  halls 
showed  no  trace  of  his  expedition ;  it  had  passed 
through  them  like  a  bad  dream.  Lane  himself  could 
hardly  believe  it.  But  its  reality  was  impressed  upon 
him  anew,  when,  evading  the  demands  that  presented 
themselves  to  his  attention,  he  went  forth,  and  again 
looked  up  at  the  Golden  Justice.  His  head  was  yet 
heavy,  and  he  was  sore  in  all  his  bones.  The  hard 
ordeal  was  to  be  repeated. 

"  Courage  !  "  he  tried  to  say  to  himself  bravely. 
"  The  prize  is  so  nearly  won,  and  this  is  to  be  the 
end  of  it  all." 

He  sent  home  word  that  he  had  passed  the  night  at 
his  office  at  the  city  hall,  and  was  still  detained  by  a 
press  of  important  business.  Not  precisely  rejoicing 
like  a  strong  man  to  run  his  race,  he  yet  proceeded 
to  treat  himself  like  an  athlete  in  training.  He 


332  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

breakfasted  at  the  Telson  House,  took  a  warm  bath 
later  on,  and  then  went  to  the  office  he  kept  for  his 
private  business.  He  locked  himself  in  there,  and 
went  to  sleep  again ;  and,  thus  refreshed,  finally  re- 
turned, in  the  afternoon,  to  his  duties  as  mayor,  to 
await  the  opportunity  for  his  new  attempt.  It  was 
his  intention  to  go  no  more  to  his  own  house  and 
not  to  face  his  daughter  again  till  the  deed  was  done. 
Then  he  should  meet  with  her  on  a  far  different 
footing. 

Mrs.  Varemberg  tearfully  related  to  Barclay,  when 
he  reached  her,  the  interview  at  which  we  have  as- 
sisted. She  had  conceived  a  harrowing  new  fear, 
arising  from  her  father's  conduct  throughout,  and 
especially  from  the  circumstances  attending  his  last 
agitated  departure  from  the  house. 

"  Surely  no  one  in  his  right  mind  would  act  so," 
she  said.  "  It  is  not  like  him.  I  hardly  dare  tell 
you  what  I  dread.  His  bodily  infirmities,  the  elec- 
tion, all  these  heavy  burdens  he  has  chosen  to  take 
upon  himself  —  Oh,  he  is,  he  must  be,  very  ill.  I 
cannot  but  think,  terrible  as  it  is  to  have  to  suggest  it 
to  you,  or  to  admit  it  to  myself,  that  his  faculties  are 
failing,  and  may  already  be  permanently  overthrown, 
"tt  ill  you  not  go  to  him  ?  Perhaps  you  can  ascertain 
his  condition.  He  passed  the  night  at  his  office  at  the 
city  hall,  and  has  not  returned." 

"  He  passed  the  night  at  the  city  hall?"  said  Bar- 
clay, echoing  her  words. 

"  Yes,"  she  returned.     "Ah,  you  see  I  was  right 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  333 

to  be  alarmed.  Will  you  not  go  and  try  to  do  some- 
thing to  keep  him  from  such  extremes  ?  " 

But  Barclay  was  thinking  of  his  vision  or  halluci- 
nation of  the  night  before.  It  was  a  startling  coinci- 
dence, to  say  the  least.  He  was  on  the  point  of  tell- 
ing her  the  whole  story,  but  something  checked  it  on 
his  lips.  Could  it  be  that  David  Lane  was  insane, 
and  the  most  mystic  and  desperate  of  somnambulists  ? 
No_,  that  figment  of  the  night  was  too  utter  a  piece 
of  folly  in  every  aspect,  and  he  dismissed  it  from  his 
mind. 

Nor  was  he  greatly  disposed  to  share  her  misgiv- 
ings as  to  her  father's  sanity.  His  bitterness  —  ready, 
finally,  to  break  over  all  bounds  —  attributed  it  rather 
to  the  prejudice  of  which  he  had  so  long  been  the 
object. 

The  business  upon  which  Barclay  was  bound  was 
of  an  exacting  sort,  that  could  not  be  neglected.  But 
after  that  was  over,  upon  his  return,  he  would  endure 
no  more  shilly-shally,  suspense,  persecution,  in  the 
principal  affair  of  his  life.  The  election  was  over ; 
filial  deference  had  already  been  carried  to  an  un- 
warrantable extreme  ;  the  time  for  decided  and  vigor- 
ous action  was  at  hand. 

"  Can  you  not  come  with  me  ?  "  he  asked.  "  We 
have  so  much  to  talk  over  together,  all  our  future  to 
plan." 

In  the  midst  of  their  deliberations  a  new  message 
arrived  from  David  Lane,  to  say  that  he  was  quite 
well ;  that  he  need  not  be  expected  to  dine  or  sup  at 
home  that  day,  but  no  one  was  to  have  a  moment's 


334  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

uneasiness  on  bis  account.  The  entirely  sane  and 
easy  character  of  the  wording  decided  Mrs.  Yarem- 
berg. 

"  I  will  go  with  you,"  she  said. 

The  conveyance  of  Barclay  was  exchanged  for  her 
own,  and  Castor  and  Pollux  once  more  drew  them. 
Mrs.  Clinton,  who  dared  not  object,  though  —  even 
kept  in  the  dark  as  she  was  to  the  graver  aspects  of 
the  affair  —  she  thought  she  ought  to,  said,  with  a 
feeble  affability,  that  perhaps  they  would  see  some- 
thing of  Mrs.  Radbrook's  out-of-door  fete  at  Inge- 
brand's  on  the  Lake. 

It  was  very  long  since  the  couple  had  been  out 
together,  and  they  were  now  soon  bowling  along  the 
pleasant  upper  country  roads,  much  in  their  old  way. 


XVI. 

THE    POWERS    OF   THE    AIR. 

A  KEEN  enjoyment  of  nature  was  one  of  the  ties 
that  bound  them  together,  and  there  was  much  in  the 
drive  to-day  to  gratify  this  taste.  Dismissing  their 
graver  cares  at  times,  they  reveled  almost  like  chil- 
dren in  the  short  respite  thus  granted  them,  and 
talked  of  the  blue  lake,  the  trivial  sights  and  figures 
met  with  by  the  way,  and  of  the  wealth  of  the  June 
roses. 

Their  last  excursion  had  been  a  very  brief  one, 
when  the  orchards  were  in  flower.  They  recalled  it 
now.  It  was  the  season  of  paradise  upon  earth,  if 
paradise  there  ever  be.  How  lovely  the  branches  of 
fragrant  blossoms  had  been,  flung  broadcast  against 
the  blue  lake  ;  how  enchanting  the  rolling  clouds,  the 
fresh  pastures,  the  grayish-green  fields  of  grain  ruf- 
fled by  the  breeze ! 

The  country  was  now  in  the  full  luxuriance  of  sum- 
mer. The  clouds  to-day  again  were  particularly  fine, 
and,  as  our  friends  drove  onward,  it  was  no  small  part 
of  their  pleasure  to  watch,  piled  up  before  them,  those 
airy  peaks,  stupendous  cliffs  and  gorges,  dazzling  min- 
arets and  domes,  and  fantastic  shapes  of  animal  life, 
that  realize  the  phantasmagoria  of  dreams. 

"  Perhaps   one  should   live   only  amid   the   most 


336  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

beautiful  scenery,"  began  Barclay,  in  a  speculative 
way  he  had,  which  generally  meant  nothing  more 
than  some  ingenious  theory  of  the  moment.  "  Per- 
haps he  ought  to  pick  out  the  most  attractive  spot  on 
earth,  and  spend  his  days  there  exclusively.  If  this 
should  not  happen  to  consist  with  the  other  so-called 
duties  of  life,  so  much  the  worse  for  them.  There 
ought  always  to  be  mountains  on  the  horizon  :  it  is 
like  having  a  high  ideal  in  sight,  even  though  we 
never  reach  it.  Thus  the  hours  of  the  day  would 
pass  like  the  stanzas  of  a  beautiful  poem." 

"  And  how  as  to  society,  in  this  etysium,  provided 
it  could  be  managed?  " 

"  There  ought  to  be  absolute  solitude,"  he  declared 
positively  ;  "  that  is  to  say,  solitude  a  deux.  The 
philosopher  —  he  —  I  —  for  you  see  I  speak  for 
myself  —  ought  to  have  only  the  dearest  being  in  ex- 
istence beside  him.  as  I  have  now,  and  all  the  other 
billions  of  the  population  might  cease  to  exist." 

Certain  random  verses  came  into  his  head,  and  he 
quoted  from  Theocritus  :  — 

"  Not  Pelops'  realm  be  mine,  nor  heaps  of  gold, 
Nor  speed  fleet  as  the  wind,  but  by  this  rock 
To  sing,  and  clasp  my  darling,  and  behold 
The  sea's  blue  reach  and  many  a  pasturing  flock." 

He  accentuated  the  end  with  a  caress. 

He  had  a  way  of  making  love  to  her  — •  a  tender- 
ness mingling  with  his  manly  strength,  and  height- 
ened, perhaps,  by  his  reputation  for  reserve  with 
others,  of  which  we  have  spoken  —  that  inexpress- 
ibly charmed  her.  He  had,  for  her.  ways  and  epi- 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  337 

thets  of  devotion  that  lingered  in  her  memory  long 
after  he  had  gone,  and  sometimes  caused  her  to  fall 
into  moods  of  delicious  day-dreaming,  with  half-shut 
eyes.  There  were  times  when  her  heart  went  out  to 
him  with  such  an  ineffable  expansion  that  it  would 
have  seemed  positive  pleasure  to  endure  tortures  for 
his  sake.  Nor,  though  kept  apart  in  reality,  had  they 
been  so  in  mind  and  soul,  during  their  period  of  pro- 
bation. They  could  not  sufficiently  embrace  each 
other  in  ardent  written  words.  The  privilege  of 
pouring  out  to  each  other  in  this  way  their  long 
pent-up  feelings  was  too  precious  a  one  to  be  fore- 
gone. Tender  epistles  had  constantly  been  exchanged 
between  them. 

"  I  am  like  the  historical  lover,  who  went  away 
from  his  mistress  to  write  to  her,"  wrote  Barclay  on 
one  occasion.  "  I  observe  that  I  stay  as  long  as  pos- 
sible, however,  before  going,  and  he  no  doubt  did  the 
same  thing." 

"  I  am  sure  the  post-office  is  positively  ashamed  of 
me"  said  Mrs.  Varemberg.  "  I  should  never  dare 
face  my  letter-carrier,  and  I  trust  he  has  little  idea 
of  what  kind  of  a  person  it  is  who  sits  trembling 
above-stairs  while  the  missives  are  brought  up  by  the 
servant,  whom  I  have  induced  to  be  discreet  about 
them,  that  they  may  not  be  too  much  scrutinized  by 
the  rest  of  the  household.  Do  you  suppose  he  could 
possibly  find  out  who  it  is  that  deposits  the  principal 
contents  of  his  letter-box  at  the  corner  ?  " 

There  had  been  letters  and  notes  at  irregular  hours, 
and  in  all  sorts  of  informal  shapes.  There  had  been 


338  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

some  dated  at  midnight,  others  at  two  and  three 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  at  daylight.  The  writ- 
ers set  forth  their  last  waking  thoughts  at  night  or 
first  in  the  morning,  or  took  the  occasion  of  many 
sleepless  vigils  to  dwell  upon  some  new  phase  or  de- 
tail of  their  absorbing  passion.  There  had  been  a 
long  one,  chiefly  anxious  and  melancholy,  from  31  rs. 
Varemberg,  in  the  journal  form,  some  part  of  it  be- 
ing done  in  nearly  every  successive  hour  of  the  day. 
Once,  when  Barclay  was  absent  from  town,  there  had 
arrived  from  him,  three  all  at  once.  These  had  been 
mailed  by  him  at  different  times,  but  were  brought,  as 
it  chanced,  from  the  small  place  where  he  was,  at  the 
same  time. 

"  I  had  no  means  of  distinguishing  one  from  the 
other,  at  first,"  the  dear  recipient  had  told  him,  "  so  I 
opened  and  read  them  one  by  one.  Then  I  read 
them  again  in  their  proper  order,  getting  thus  a  double 
and  unexpected  pleasure  from  them,  don't  you  see  ? 
And  oh!  then  I  read  them  over  again  a  hundred 
times,  as  I  always  do,  and  kissed  them,  and  thanked 
God  for  his  goodness  to  me,  and  my  heart  was  full  to 
overflowing  with  my  pride  and  delight  in  you  and  the 
love  you  bear  me." 

In  this  delicious  intoxication,  —  which  is  said  to 
be  even  sweeter  to  be  possessed  by  than  to  inspire,  — 
a  rapture  with  pain  in  ils  pleasure,  they  wished  well 
to  each  other  with  an  intensity  far  beyond  the  poor 
limit  of  mere  human  expression  or  performance. 

It  was  natural  enough,  on  a  day  like  this,  that  there 
should  be  iteration  of  these  words  of  fondness,  —  for- 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  339 

ever  trite,  yet  touched  with  living  fire,  —  though  for- 
mal propriety  was  imposed  upon  their  actions  by  the 
public  gaze.  They  passed  from  grave  to  gay.  They 
began  to  formulate  their  plan  of  life.  Barclay  said 
they  were  no  longer  children,  to  be  kept  apart  by  the 
caprices  of  others.  He  would  seek  David  Lane,  in  a 
filial  interview,  when  he  got  back,  —  his  ire  awoke  at 
the  recollection,  —  and  after  that  they  would  endure 
no  further  opposition.  Florence  must  be  his  own ; 
he  insisted  upon  it.  Let  the  world  at  last  know  it. 
They  dwelt  upon  the  future  in  detail.  It  had  always 
been  one  of  Barclay's  ideas  to  build  a  house,  and  in- 
corporate into  it  his  favorite  notions.  They  would 
do  that.  They  thought  they  would  arrange  their  life 
somewhat  like  that  of  the  Radbrooks.  They  would 
not  know  too  many  people.  They  pronounced  it 
frittering  and  destructive  of  the  best  objects  of  social 
intercourse.  A  part  of  their  time  they  would  give  to 
travel.  Paul  Barclay  wished  to  revisit  with  her  some 
of  the  places  where  he  had  been  so  unhappy  on  her 
account,  to  remove,  as  it  were,  an  undeserved  stigma 
he  had  attached  to  them.  And,  then,  they  both 
meant  to  be  better,  morally.  It  is  one  of  the  aspira- 
tions of  such  an  affection  that  it  aims  to  secure  not 
only  time,  but  eternity.  They  meant  to  keep  their 
minds  only  upon  high  and  noble  things. 

"  I  shall  help  you  in  all  your  projects  and  labors," 
insisted  Mrs.  Varemberg.  "  You  must  make  a  name, 
and  be  known  far  and  wide  for  your  abilities  and 
your  goodness  of  heart,  as  I  know  you." 

But  oh,  best  of  all!  —  oh,  inexpressible  delight! 
—  they  were  to  be  always  together. 


340  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

"  Every  day,  on  my  return,"  thought  Barclay,  with 
subtle  thrills  of  rapture,  "  I  shall  find  her  there  await- 
ing me."  He  could  only  think  of  her  as  an  influence 
to  dissipate  every  sorrow  and  redouble  every  joy. 

She  in  like  manner  thought  of  those  comings- 
home,  when  she  was  to  tell  him  all  the  events  of  the 
day,  even  to  those  of  no  importance.  The  prospect 
had  all  the  keener  zest  for  her,  from  her  previous 
unhappy  experience.  She  dreamed  the  sweet,  femi- 
nine dream  of  the  inseparable  companion  and  friend, 
the  strong  protector  who  would  banish  fear.  She 
would  look  her  best,  talk  her  best ;  she  meant  to  tell 
him  everything ;  she  would  prepare  loving  surprises 
for  him.  Ah,  yes,  much  as  he  had  seen,  she  knew 
some  ingenuity  would  remain  to  her  to  do  this.  In ' 
his  strength  her  weakness  and  trouble  would  disap- 
pear, her  past  would  be  forgotten. 

"  We  will  rule  the  world,  my  loved  one,  my  sweet 
one,"  pronounced  Barclay,  in  one  of  his  moments 
of  high  enthusiasm.  "  Yes,  we  will  yet  throne  it  to- 
gether, like  Antony  and  Cleopatra." 

"  Dear  heart,  I  fear  I  shall  play  but  a  sorry  Cleo- 
patra to  your  highness's  Antony.  I  often  have  to 
think  what  a  poor,  weak  creature  I  am  still ;  and, 
after  all,  I  suppose  even  happiness  will  not  impera- 
tively cause  one's  health  and  strength  to  be  restored." 

"I  will  see  to  it;  I  take  it  upon  myself,"  he  re- 
turned, with  the  heartiest  reassurance.  "  You  are 
going  to  be  young  and  strong  and  blooming.  Trust 
me  with  it ;  it  is  not  longer  your  affair.  We  have 
most  of  life  yet  before  us.  All  shall  go  well.  Noth- 
ing shall  keep  our  happiness  from  us." 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  341 

"  I  have  often  thought  of  asking  you  to  put  me 
out  of  your  life,  even  now,  and  to  forget  me,"  peiv 
sisted  Mrs.  Varemberg,  half  despondently.  There 
seemed  to  be  something  in  the  air  that  furthered  it. 
';  Who  knows  what  misfortunes  will  yet  happen  ? 
I  distract  you  from  your  own  best  interests  and  from 
useful  work.  I  am  not  worth  it." 

"You  do  not  love  me  when  you  talk  so.  I  have 
no  interests  but  you.  I  could  not  forget  you." 

"  If  I  thought  you  could  I  should  die.  I  will  try 
to  be  all  that  you  desire.  I  shall  not  be  what  you 
ought  to  have,  but  you  must  have  patience  with  me." 

The  business  that  brought  Barclay  to  the  vicinity 
of  the  little  rural  inland  lake  was  duly  finished,  and 
they  turned  homeward.  The  -clouds  they  had  so 
much  admired,  on  their  way  up,  had,  for  some  time 
past,  been  acting  rather  strangely.  The  tops  of  all 
the  battlements  and  peaks  were  blown  off,  and  their 
general  mass  was  driven  about  in  confusion,  as  by 
strong  upper  currents,  while  the  air  at  the  surface  of 
the  earth  was  abnormally  calm.  There  was  a  cer- 
tain oppressiveness  at  intervals,  almost  a  difficulty  in 
breathing,  that  recalled  to  Barclay  his  feelings  of  the 
night  before. 

They  had  planned  to  stop  a  moment,  in  passing,  at 
the  new  cottage  of  Fahnenstock,  on  the  Whitefish 
Bay  road,  considering  that  it  was  exactly  in  their 
way.  A  peculiarly  interesting  family  was  assembled 
there  just  at  present.  Besides  old  Fahnenstock  him- 
self, —  who,  being  a  bachelor,  could  not  very  well  at- 
tend to  his  own  comfort,  —  it  comprised  the  Me- 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

Clarys,  whom  lie  had  brought  there  to  keep  house 
for  him  during  the  summer  months.  It  was  an  ex- 
cellent place  for  the  babies,  who  were  already  fat 
and  rosy.  The  young  wife,  whom  we  have  seen 
pinched  and  faded,  was  recovering  her  spirits  and 
good  looks.  The  enterprising  McClary  had  set  up 
the  little  shop  for  which  he  had  wished,  near  the 
city  limits,  and  was  now  absent  there.  And  then 
there  was  a  spinster  sister  of  Mrs.  McClary,  a  person 
apparently  of  much  executive  ability  and  natural 
thrift.  She  had  but  lately  come  to  these  parts,  hav- 
ing been  blown  out  of  house  and  home,  it  was  said, 
by  a  tornado  in  Missouri  or  Kansas,  where  her  fam- 
ily had  lived.  It  appeared  that  Fahnenstock  was 
quite  taken  with  this  spinster  sister,  and  some  of  the 
waggish  thought  that,  after  all  his  long  years  of  bach- 
elorhood, the  two  might  yet  make  a  match  of  it. 

But  even  more  important  figures  than  these  were 
a  young  bridal  couple,  William  Alfsen  and  his  wife. 
Yes,  Alfsen  and  Stanislava  Zelinsky  were  at  last 
united,  and,  as  it  happened,  were  passing  a  day  or 
two  of  their  honeymoon  here.  It  had  come  about 
through  Ludvvig  Trapschuh.  Furious  at  her  for  hav- 
ing given  evidence  against  him  at  the  trial,  he  had 
made  her  life  so  unendurable  that  she  had  finally 
left  her  home  and  sought  a  refuge  elsewhere.  She 
had  repaired  first  to  Mrs.  Varemberg,  who  received 
her  kindly,  and  found  her  occupation,  and  a  tempo- 
rary abiding-place  with  the  McClarys.  During  all 
this  time,  however,  she  would  not  marry  her  lover. 
"With  some  curious  ideas  of  the  binding  force  of  re- 


THE   GOLDEN  JU STICK.  343 

lationship,  she  obstinately  refused  him  till  the  consent 
of  her  uncle,  her  guardian  and  the  authoritative  head 
of  her  family,  could  be  obtained,  and  there  was  no 
prospect  whatever  that  that  irate  person  would  con- 
sent. Her  sighing  swain  was  in  despair ;  but  cir- 
cumstances had  favored  him,  the  obstacle  had  disap- 
peared of  its  own  accord,  and  they  had  married  two 
days  before.  David  Lane  had  seen  to  it  that  they 
had  a  handsome  gift  from  him,  disguising  it  partly  as 
a  subscription  to  the  fund  to  Alfsen  for  his  services 
in  the  great  river  fire. 

The  impolicy  and  fruitlessness  of  opposition  grad- 
ually impressed  Trapschuh.  Reports  of  the  growing 
prosperity  of  Alfsen  reached  his  ears.  Still,  he  was 
not  thoroughly  humbled  till  he  lost  his  place  on  the 
Chippewa  Street  bridge.  Though  no  political  pro- 
scription was  declared,  as  has  been  said,  an  example 
was  made  of  a  few  of  those  holding  public  office,  who 
had  been  most  prominent  in  the  frauds,  and  the  of- 
fense of  Trapschuh  had  been  so  flagrant  that  no  one 
could  say  anything  in  his  favor.  At  the  moment 
that  he  was  coming  out  of  the  Board  of  Public 
Works,  after  hearing  his  sentence  of  dismissal,  —  it 
was  on  the  day  succeeding  David  Lane's  installation, 
—  he  met  Alfsen  face  to  face.  He  all  at  once  as- 
sumed before  him  as  humble  an  air  as  Haman,  after 
his  overthrow,  might  have  taken  before  Mordecai. 

"  I  always  bin  friend  o'  yours,  Billy,"  he.  said  ob- 
sequiously, "  though  sometimes  I  guess  may  be  you 
don't  always  know  it.  I  never  got  no  sure  objections 
that  you  get  married  with  Stanislava.  She  got  pretty 


o-l  1  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

bad  temper,  that 's  so ;  but  she  can  come  back  to  my 
house,  if  she  want,  and  you  can  get  married  with  her 
any  time  what  you  like.  I  say,  Billy,  you  could  n't 
get  a  feller  out  o'  work  some  kind  o'  good  job,  could 
you  ?  " 

Alfsen  let  no  grass  grow  under  his  feet,  but  imme- 
diately proceeded  to  have  this  authorization  confirmed 
in  the  presence  of  his  sweetheart,  and  they  were  mar- 
ried forthwith. 

This  case,  among  the  rest,  had  made  conversation 
for  Barclay  and  Mrs.  Varemberg,  as  they  approached 
the  cottage.  The  ppposition  of  Ludwig  Trapschuh 
struck  them  both  as  a  sort  of  parody  of  that  to  which 
they  too  had  been  so  long  subjected.  They  recognized 
an  echo,  as  it  were,  of  the  same  note. 

"  I  wonder  if  we  shall  have  to  wait  till  David  Lane 
is  overthrown  and  wrecked,  in  some  wholesale  col- 
lapse, before  we  can  expect  to  have  his  objections 
withdrawn  ? "  suggested  Barclay,  with  half-humor- 
ous lightness.  "  That  would  need  a  long  delay  in- 
deed." 

All  the  men  of  the  house  were,  at  present,  away  at 
their  work ;  only  the  women  were  at  home.  But 
the  women  warmly  did  the  honors  of  the  place. 
They  ran  into  the  garden  and  plucked  its  fairest 
flowers,  with  a  reckless  hospitality,  to  press  upon  the 
visitors.  There  had  been  bushes  of  fragrant  svriuea 

•i  O 

and  lilacs  already  in  the  yard,  and  the  new  tenants 
had  added  roses,  and  especially  a  double  row  of  tu- 
lips, flanking  the  path  from  the  gate  to  the  door. 
These  flowers,  vividly  glowing  with  their  various 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  345 

hues  of  scarlet  and  yellow,  were  most  trimly  kept, 
and  every  foot  of  the  small  domain  gave  evidence 
that  pains  were  being  taken  to  develop  its  utmost 
capabilities. 

Hardly  was  this  cottage  reached,  however,  when 
there  came  on  a  thunder-storm,  that  had  been  for 
some  time  threatening,  and  all  were  driven  for  a 
brief  space  within-doors.  The  rain  —  very  slight  in 
quantity  —  was  accompanied  by  violent  hail ;  the 
dash  of  cold  in  the  sherbet  of  the  summer  day.  The 
flower-beds,  so  shapely  but  a  few  moments  before, 
were  much  broken  down,  and  presented  to  view 
numbers  of  the  charming  tulips  sadly  hanging  their 
heads.  Hailstones  had  fallen,  on  this  occasion,  of 
sizes  variously  estimated  —  according  to  the  current 
way  of  measuring  —  at  from  "  as  large  as  a  hen's 
egg  to  as  large  as  a  man's  fist."  In  the  suburbs  of 
the  town,  at  the  same  time,  one  mass  of  compacted  ice 
had  fallen,  estimated  to  be  as  large  as  a  man's  head. 

When  the  guests  came  forth  to  resume  their  jour- 
ney, the  storm  had  passed  over ;  the  sun  was  shining 
through  broken  clouds,  still  in  turmoil,  and  all  nature 
looked  fresher  and  greener  for  its  late  ablutions. 
The  enterprising  spinster  sister  of  Mrs.  McClary 
came  out  with  them.  Looking  up  at  the  heavens, 
shading  her  wrinkling  forehead  with  her  hand,  she 
felt  moved  to  say,  "  'Pears  as  if  them  clouds  looked 
like  some  we  used  to  have  down  in  our  couutry. 
There  's  a  kind  o'  curious  feelin'  in  the  air,  these  last 
few  days,  anyway.  Down  there,  we  should  V  called 
it  tornader  weather." 


346  THI-:  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

"  But  we  do  not  have  them,  fortunately,"  said  Bar- 
clay. "  You  must  not  let  that  make  you  uneasy  here." 

"  No,  of  course  not ;  but  the  wind 's  ben  to  the 
south'ard  so  long,  —  till  to-day,  when  it  come  round, 
—  an'  no  rain,  though  the  clouds  has  gathered  up  every 
day  and  tried  to  give  some,  that  it 's  looked  to  me 
more  'n  once  just  as  it  used  to  down  in  Kansas.  But 
of  course  they  don't  get  as  far  north  as  this,"  she 
concluded. 

Getting  under  way  again,  Mrs.  Varemberg  and 
Barclay  came  presently  to  the  spot,  at  no  great  dis- 
tance from  town,  where  Mrs.  Radbrook  was  giving 

O  O 

the  garden-party  mentioned  by  Mrs.  Clinton.  This 
was  Ingebrand's  on  the  Lake,  a  pretty  spot,  left 
much  in  its  condition  of  natural  wildness,  which  was 
patronized  in  a  quiet  way  by  people  driving  out  from 
town.  It  was  distinguished  from  Ingebrand's  on  the 
River,  another  resort  of  the  same  kind,  much  fre- 
quented by  pleasure-parties  of  rowers,  whereas  there 
was  but  little  rowing  on  the  Jake,  which  was  gener- 
ally esteemed  too  rough  and  uncertain  for  that  sport. 
A  touch  of  romance  hung  about  Ingebrand's  on  the 
Lake,  —  some  legend  of  a  countess  who  had  once  oc- 
cupied the  rural  dwelling  on  the  grounds,  when  it 
was  a  simple  farm-house.  It  appeared  that  this  Mrs. 
Radbrook  was  noted  for  originality  in  her  entertain- 
ments, which  she  but  rarely  gave,  and  which  were 
the  more  highly  esteemed  on  that  account.  Follow- 
ing some  precedent  abroad,  she  had  taken  this  pleas- 
ant spot  to-day  for  her  exclusive  use,  and  promised 
to  turn  its  attractions,  together  with  those  of  the  sea- 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  347 

son,  to  account,  in  a  charming  fete  champetre.  She 
had  set  up  a  number  of  pretty  tents  and  pavilions,  of 
gayly  decorated  canvas.  In  a  large  pavilion,  open 
to  the  water,  an  attractive  collation  was  prepared. 
The  tents  and  waving  pennants,  with  the  summer 
costumes  of  the  ladies  intermingled,  upon  the  back- 
ground of  the  moor  and  varied  shrubbery,  made  a 
gay  and  dainty  scene,  such  as  a  Rossi,  of  the  Span- 
ish-Roman school,  might  have  painted. 

Our  friends  had  already  met  some  representatives 
from  the  fete,  taking  merry  drives  farther  up  the 
road.  They  had  been  adjured  not  to  miss  it,  and 
now  civilly  stopped  at  it,  but  only  for  the  very  brief- 
est moment.  Mrs.  Varemberg  was  in  mourning,  and 
had  no  need  to  plead  any  excuse  for  not  participating 
further  in  the  entertainment.  Their  presence  to- 
gether was  gossiped  about,  as  it  would  naturally  be 
in  such  a  company,  but  there  was  no  severity  in  the 
tone.  The  true  state  of  the  case  had  begun  to  get , 
abroad,  as,  in  some  mysterious  way,  such  things 
always  will,  and  people  invested  them  with  a  certain 
poetry  and  pleasant  interest.  That  is  to  say,  it  was 
known  that  Barclay  was  an  old  lover,  that  he  had 
been  unhappy,  and  that  he  had  been  true  and  high- 
minded  as  well  throughout  most  trying  circumstances. 
The  critics  at  the  Saturday  Morning  Club  and  the 
charitable  guild  now  admitted  that  he  was  probably 
a  man  of  flesh  and  blood,  like  others,  and  they  se- 
cretly admired  him  the  more  for  his  stout  fidelity  to 
a  forlorn,  almost  desperate  ideal. 

The  two  had  left  the  fete  but  a  little  behind,  when 


348  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

the  threatening  aspect  of  the  weather  impressed  itself 
upon  them.  No  engrossment  with  their  own  affairs 
could  have  wholly  withdrawn  their  attention  from  the 
amazing  panorama  that  began  to  unroll  itself  in  the 
heavens. 

It  was  no  ordinary  storm  that  was  impending. 
The  entire  masses  of  broken  clouds  had  gathered  and 
distributed  themselves  into  two  hostile  camps,  over 
against  each  other,  in  opposite  quarters  of  the  sky. 
After  gathering  thus,  a  most  turbulent  commotion 
broke  out  among  them,  and  they  began  to  approach 
each  other  as  in  battle-array.  Their  rate  of  motion 
increased,  and,  as  they  drew  near,  lightnings  darted 
from  one  to  the  other. 

"  Look !  look  !  "  suddenly  exclaimed  Mrs.  Varem- 
berg,  in  consternation.  They  had  been  urging  their 
pace  to  the  utmost,  to  seek  a  place  of  safety.  Blasts 
of  hot  air  had  smitten  their  faces,  followed  immedi- 
ately by  others  so  cold  that  they  involuntarily  drew 
their  wraps  closer  around  them. 

"  Oh  !  oh  !  "  cried  Barclay,  unable  to  refrain  from 
almost  as  much  agitation  as  his  fair  companion. 

They  were  in  the  presence  of  the  dread  tornado. 

The  spinster  sister  of  the  McClarys,  whose  words 
had,  perhaps,  seemed  even  to  herself  only  desultory 
chatter,  was  right.  One  of  those  rare  visitants  had 
come  far  to  the  northward  of  its  usual  course,  and, 
like  some  fell  marauder,  seeking  new  and  untried 
fields  to  foray,  was  about  to  swoop  down,  bringing 
ruin  and  dismay  upon  a  locality  that  had  hitherto 
given  no  thought  to  this  form  of  danger. 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  349 

The  great  plain  of  the  Mississippi  Valley  is  the 
theatre  where  these  mighty  forces,  created  by  the 
torrid  winds  from  the  equator  and  the  cold  from  the 
poles,  meet  and  struggle  for  the  mastery.  That  vast 
unimpeded  stretch,  the  inhabitants  of  which  pay  a 
woful  price  in  lives  and  treasure  for  the  gladiatorial 
shows  they  witness,  is  the  "  battle-ground  of  the  tor- 
nadoes." Here  the  detail  of  the  phenomenon  was 
the  same  as  it  was  wont  to  be  there.  Rain  had  been 
lacking  for  a  very  long  time  past :  a  veritable  drought 
had  been  threatened.  The  barometer,  to-day,  stood 
remarkably  low.  A  swift  current  of  wind  in  the  up- 
per air  was  blowing  southward,  while  that  at  the  sur- 
face of  the  earth  was  northward. 

The  sudden  sharp  exclamation  of  Mrs.  Varemberg 
had  been  drawn  forth  by  the  meeting  of  the  great 
opposing  cloud-masses.  From  their  point  of  junc- 
tion dropped  down  a  strange  and  ominous  funnel  of 
dark  and  murky  vapor.  Some  described  it  as  shaped 
like  a  wicker  basket ;  others,  as  like  a  snake,  the  head 
of  which  was  held  up  in  the  sky,  while  the  body 
writhed  and  lashed  about  below.  At  any  rate,  this 
definite  form  began  to  turn  round  upon  itself,  with  a 
rapid  gyratory  motion,  and  at  the  same  time  to  pro- 
gress in  a  right  line,  taking  its  direction  towards  the 
northeast.  A  violent  boiling  movement  could  be  ob- 
served within  it,  and  it  was  presently  filled  with  flying 
debris  of  every  kind,  caught  up  by  the  suction  into 
its  destroying  vortex.  The  small  end  of  its  funnel 
dangled  just  above  the  ground,  and  it  had  a  way  of 
striking  and  rebounding  as  if  highly  elastic. 


350  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

The  domes  of  Keewaydin  were  now  visible,  but  no 
promising  point  of  escape  from  such  a  peril  appeared 
over  a  wide  intervening  stretch.  The  couple  drew 
up,  upon  a  high  ground,  the  better  to  mark  the  route 
of  the  tornado,  and  thus  determine  their  own.  The 
dread  scourge  struck  the  city,  here  and  there,  as  in 
selected  spots,  under  their  very  eyes.  It  was  like 
some  stinging  whip-lash  of  the  gods,  whirled  with  an 
avenging  purpose.  Wherever  it  touched,  devastation 
followed.  Steeples  and  turrets  were  seen  to  go  down, 
and  the  fragments  of  roofs  to  whirl  into  the  air. 
Bells  struck  of  themselves,  with  a  lugubrious  sound. 
There  was  smoke,  as  from  the  shells  of  a  bombard- 
ment ;  but  the  thickest  of  this  was  when  some  of  the 
flouring-mills  along  the  river  were  wrecked,  and  a 
choking  white  powder  filled  the  air. 

There  were  no  buildings  easy  of  access  for  the 
refugees,  and  perhaps  shelter  ought  not  to  be  sought, 
at  such  a  time,  even  in  the  most  solid  of  buildings. 
It  was  uncertain  what  direction  the  desolating  force 
might  finally  take.  Its  rate  of  progress,  now  faster, 
now  slower,  and  again,  for  brief  periods,  coming  to 
almost  an  absolute  stand-still,  could  be  plainly  traced ; 
but  what  rule  was  to  be  laid  down,  by  novices,  for 
this  gigantic  eddy  in  the  ocean  of  air  that  beats  on 
the  whole  round  world?  Mrs.  Varemberg  sat  pale 
and  trembling,  her  hand  clasped  in  that  of  her  lover. 
They  saw  much  to  excite  a  reverent  awe  and  dismay, 
but  fortunately  they  could  not  see  all  that  was  passing 
in  the  town. 

The  tornado  fell  first  upon  the  sparsely  settled 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  351 

region  below  the  city  limits  on  the  South  Side.  There 
it  uprooted  orchards,  and  beat  down  the  soft  earth  of 
gardens  and  ploughed  lands  till  it  seemed  as  if  they 
had  been  macadamized.  It  wrenched  the  very  grass 
from  the  ground,  as  by  ravening  teeth.  It  was  not  a 
widespread  and  all -devouring  force,  however,  but 
moved  in  a  narrow  and  well-defined  path.  Its  area 
of  widest  destruction  was  hardly  more  than  three 
hundred  yards,  while  that  of  its  greatest  energy  was, 
perhaps,  a  hundred.  It  was  in  evidence  afterwards 
that  at  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away  one  would  not  have 
known  what  was  in  progress,  and  only  a  gentle  breeze 
fanned  the  brow.  Next,  it  touched  the  line  of  the 
city  proper,  and,  as  if  at  a  given  signal,  every  chim- 
ney and  turret  went  down. 

Presently  a  minor  funnel  was  seen  to  separate  it- 
self from  the  main  one,  and  go  whirling  away  on  a 
career  of  its  own.  This  followed  the  ravine  of  So- 
bieski  Street  to  the  right,  unroofing  or  shattering  to 
pieces  the  Polish  houses.  Had  the  addresses  of  cer- 
tain voters  been  looked  for  now,  they  would  have 
been  missing  indeed.  The  house  of  Ludwig  Trap- 
schuh  was  rapt  into  the  air  bodily,  as  on  a  magic 
praying-carpet  of  the  Arabian  Nights ;  and  the  pro- 
prietor, not  knowing  it  was  in  transit,  —  for  in  the 
few  moments  of  the  immediate  passage  of  the  storm- 
cloud  all  was  Plutonian  darkness, — attempting,  in  a 
panic,  to  step  out  of  his  own  front  door,  fell  headlong 
to  the  ground,  a  distance  of  some  twenty  feet,  and 
broke  a  leg  and  various  ribs. 

All  the  ordinary  operations  of  the  law  of  gravita- 


352  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

tion  seemed  suspended.  All  movable  objects  flew,  as 
if  possessed  by  witchcraft,  to  an  imperative  centre  of 
attraction :  heavy  benches  and  tool-chests  rose  from 
the  ground,  furniture  and  bedding  leaped  from  .the 
doors  and  windows,  to  join  in  the  mad  carnival.  A 
few  hapless  animals  feeding  in  suburban  pastures 
suffered  wofully.  Cows  and  horses  were  driven, 
dragged,  and  rolled  away,  against  their  utmost  vresist- 
ance,  —  the  hoof-marks  in  the  ground  showing,  after- 
wards, the  desperate  opposition  they  had  made,  —  and 
were  found  with  bones  broken,  or  beaten  to  jelly  and 
left  in  a  shapeless  mass.  Nor  was  it  brute  animals 
alone  that  perished ;  there  were  many  human  victims 
as  well.  One  of  the  poor  Polish  women,  among 
others,  was  found  battered  and  dead,  with  her  hair 
twisted  from  her  head,  and  lying  in  a  sort  of  rope 
beside  her.  The  very  soles  of  her  shoes  were  torn 
from  her  feet. 

Many  corpses  were  naked,  and  so  ecchymosed, — 
the  surgical  term  came  to  be  freely  used,  —  discolored 
by  numberless  bruises,  that  they  might  have  been 
taken  for  those  of  negroes. 

Among  the  comic  incidents,  in  this  quarter,  may  be 
mentioned  that  of  the  graceless  young  Barney  Trap- 
schuh.  He  was  sitting  loaferishly  on  a  fence  at  the 
time  ;  he  made  a  long  excursion  into  the  air,  leaving 
shreds  of  his  clothing  on  the  roofs  of  houses  and 
trees  over  which  he  passed,  and  was  cast  down,  cov- 
ered with  black  mud,  in  a  distant  field.  This  was  a 
mud  peculiar  to  the  tornado  :  it  was  of  the  consist- 
ency of  paint,  and  was  forced  into  the  eyes,  ears,  and 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  353 

nostrils,  aud  even  the  very  pores  of  the  skin  so  ener- 
getically that  it  took  weeks  to  eradicate. 

The  lesser  funnel  reached  the  shore.  It  danced 
and  spun  there,  for  a  brief  space,  among  the  sand- 
dunes,  like  merry  Pau-Puk-Keewis  ;  then,  as  a  part- 
ing bit  of  malice,  wrecked  a  luckless  shallop  or  two 
it  found  abroad  on  the  water,  and  was  finally  dissi- 
pated in  the  lake. 

The  principal  storm-cloud,  however,  kept  on  its 
original  course.  A  tithe  of  all  its  eccentric  doings 
could  not  be  described.  It  lifted  one  of  the  German 
turn-halls  from  its  base,  made  it  plough  the  ground  for 
many  feet,  and  racked  it  completely  to  pieces.  It  cut 
in  two  a  railroad  freight-house  as  cleanly  as  if  with  a 
saw,  leaving  one  half  standing  intact.  A  row  of 
boards,  which  had  belonged  to  the  other  half,  was 
found  set  up  in  a  circle,  firmly  driven  iuto  the  ground, 
some  four  miles  from  the  original  point  of  departure. 
It  did  not  respect  even  the  time-honored  Johaunis- 
berger  House.  It  raised  up  one  end  of  that  worthy 
caravansary  so  high  that  the  terrified  inmates,  who 
had  taken  refuge  in  the  cellar,  reported  that  they  had 
glimpses  of  the  prospect  without,  between  the  sill 
and  foundations  ;  but  to  make  amends,  it  set  it  down 
again  nearly  as  good  as  ever. 

The  tornado  apparently  did  not  think  all  objects 
alike  deserving  of  its  attention.  It  seemed  to  pick 
and  choose,  and  strike  at  notable  points,  as  if  to  de- 
cide the  day  by  the  fall  of  certain  leaders,  as  in  the 
old  combats  of  classic  and  mediaeval  days. 


:;.-.  1  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

"  There  goes  St.  Jude's  !  "  exclaimed  Barclay,  as 
they  saw  its  prominent  spire  enveloped  in  the  fog,  and, 
the  moment  after,  the  distant  jangle  of  bells  came  to 
their  ears. 

And  so  it  was.  A  small,  panic-stricken  congrega- 
tion had  assembled  in  the  church  of  the  Rev.  Edward 
Brockston,  —  much  as  the  early  inhabitants  of  Brit- 
ain fled  to  their  sanctuaries  for  refuge  from  the  fury 
of  the  Northmen,  on  their  coasts,  —  when  the  whole 
massive  structure  was  rapt  from  over  their  heads,  for- 
tunately doing  the  inmates  but  little  harm.  With  a 
few  mighty  gyrations,  the  edifice  was  wrenched  into 
a  tall  pyramid  of  interwoven  iron,  timbers,  stones,  and 
bricks,  a  more  impressive  monument  of  the  resistless 
power  that  had  done  it  than  any  of  the  others  left  be- 
hind. Next,  the  ruin  of  one  of  the  mammoth  grain 
elevators  co'uld  be  distinguished,  and  the  yellow  wheat 
from  it  floated  on  the  river  and  bay  for  many  days 
thereafter.  The  Chippewa  Street  bridge,  in  the  vi- 
cinity, —  though  this  they  could  not  see,  —  followed 
suit.  It  was  twisted,  like  the  church,  into  a  chaotic 
mass  of  materials,  and  the  whole  unceremoniously 
dumped  into  the  stream.  When  it  came  to  be  rebuilt, 
it  may  be  here  mentioned,  it  was  on  a  new  and  hand- 
somer model ;  for  a  sentiment  had  arisen  for  making 
these  so  necessary  but  unsightly  bridges,  of  which  the 
lake  towns  are  full,  somewhat  more  in  keeping  with 
the  comely  buildings  and  effects  of  street  perspective 
which  abut  upon  them. 

The  very  river-bed  itself  was  exposed  to  view,  and 
a  heavy  column  of  water  was  lifted  from  it  and  pre- 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  355 

cipitated  over  the  most  proper  district  of  the  city, 
the  trim  Seventh  Ward  itself.  The  sides  of  many 
buildings  in  that  quarter  were  so  encrusted  with  river 
slime,  weeds,  and  shells  that  they  took  a  decidedly 
venerable  and  submarine  aspect.  It  might  have  re- 
called the  story  of  the  turbid  douche  given  by  the  of- 
fended elephant  to  the  tailor  who  pricked  his  trunk 
with  a  needle. 

The  storm-cloud,  which  had  once  or  twice  wavered 
towards  the  city  hall,  and  again  away  from  it,  was 
now  plainly  seen  to  swoop  down  upon  that  important 
structure,  as  if  finally  to  claim  it  for  its  own.  How 
could  the  building  fail  to  succumb  ?  Mrs.  Varem- 
berg's  filial  thoughts  flew  in  terror  to  her  father.  At 
such  a  moment  every  resentful  impulse  vanished  be- 
fore the  dread  of  his  personal  danger.  She  stretched 
forth  her  hand  mutely  in  his  direction,  as  to  save  him. 

The  turbulence  and  obscurity  cleared  away  from 
the  point  in  question,  and  the  civic  building  was  seen 
still  standing.  There  was  but  one  change,  but  this 
a  notable  one,  —  the  twinkling  Golden  Justice  had 
disappeared  from  its  dome. 

"  It  stands  firm,  but  I  do  not  see  the  Golden  Jus- 
tice," said  Barclay,  straining  his  eyes  painfully. 

"Yes,  it  is  surely  gone,"  said  his  companion. 
"  There  is  not  a  trace  of  it.  It  is  too  bad,  is  it  not  ?  " 

Little  time  was  afforded  for  comment  on  this  or 
any  other  phenomenon.  The  tornado,  either  satisfied 
with  its  achievement  or  having  met  with  a  foe  beyond 
its  strength,  had  the  look  of  intending  a  new  depart- 
ure. It  made  one,  in  fact.  It  greatly  increased  its 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

rate  of  speed,  and  shaking  off  the  dust  of  the  town 
from  its  feet,  as  it  were,  advanced  upon  the  suburbs 
and  the  open  country  northward.  Our  lookers-on  rec- 
ognized two  men  who  came  running  breathlessly  up 
the  slope.  These  were  Fahnenstock  and  Alfseu,  mak- 
ing for  their  cottage,  to  be  with  the  inmates  in  their 
time  of  danger. 

"  Fly,  fly  for  your  lives  !  "  they  shouted,  in  voices 
hoarse  with  alarm,  to  those  who  lingered.  "  It  is 
coming  this  way." 

Barclay  had  already  turned  the  heads  of  the  trem- 
bling horses  away  from  the  tempest.  A  decisive 
move  now  seemed  necessary.  He  lashed  Castor  and 
Pollux  to  their  utmost  speed,  hoping  to  reach  a  certain 
cross-road,  which  turned  to  the  left,  at  a  little  distance. 
Following  this,  they  might  cross  the  path  of  the  dan- 
ger, now  that  they  distinctly  knew  what  it  was,  and 
place  themselves  out  of  its  reach  on  the  other  side. 
Looking,  fearfully,  back  over  their  shoulders,  how- 
ever, they  saw  the  tornado  advancing  by  gigantic  leaps 
and  bounds.  It  was  evident  that  the  cross-road  could 
not  be  reached  in  time.  They  came  to  a  place  where 
a  score  or  more  of  fugitives  from  Mrs.  Radbrook's 

o 

fete  were  huddled  confusedly,  not  knowing  what  to 
do  next.  The  fete  had  been  stricken  by  panic.  The 
principal  pavilion  had  been  blown  down,  by  a  sudden 
gust,  upon  the  very  heads  of  the  banqueters,  turning 
the  revelry  into  a  Belshazzar's  feast.  Many  had  fled, 
with  a  blind  purpose  of  reaching  town  ;  but  arrived 
thus  far,  they  had  stopped,  and  were  awaiting  the  is- 
sue in  terrified  suspense. 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  357 

The  destroying  force  had  at  first  followed  the  line 
of  the  Keewaydin  River  ;  then  broken  away  from  it, 
and  veered  more  to  the  eastward.  Woe  to  any  pleas- 
ure skiffs  abroad  on  the  quiet,  sylvan  current  that 
day  !  Woe  to  the  vegetation,  the  gardens,  the  sum- 
mer chalets,  along  the  banks  !  The  very  bluffs  shook 
under  its  tread.  A  roar  as  of  ten  thousand  railway 
trains,  momentarily  increasing,  filled  the  air. 

The  couple  alighted,  and  Barclay,  loosing  the 
horses  from  the  conveyance,  quickly  secured  them  to 
a  rail  fence.  Fahneustock  and  Alfsen  had  time  to 
come  up  and  join  them.  The  monstrous  funnel  cloud, 
looming  perhaps  five  hundred  feet  in  the  air,  was  so 
near  at  hand  that  its  texture  could  be  plainly  studied 
by  any  bold  eyes  that  dared  to  gaze  upon  it.  Part  of 
it  was  fleecy  white,  as  if  the  sun  were  shining  in  the 
midst  of  it ;  but  the  greater  part  was  murky,  lurid,  or 
of  a  greenish  hue,  like  the  thick,  unwholesome  smoke 
of  factories  or  chemical  works. 

"  To  the  lake  !  to  the  lake  ! "  cried  alarmed  voices. 
Forthwith,  a  general  stampede  took  place  to  an  open 
field.  Most  of  the  fugitives  hurried  to  its  verge, 
above  the  lake  shore,  and  there  threw  themselves  on 
the  ground.  Barclay  tenderly  aided  the  steps  of  her 
who  leaned  upon  him,  and  urged  their  pace  to  the  ut- 
most. 

"  Courage !  courage  !  "  he  said,  reassuringly.  "  A 
moment  more  and  we  are  safe.  It  will  not  follow 
there  ;  I  am  sure  of  it." 

"  I  am  not  afraid,"  she  responded  more  than  once. 
"  You  are  with  me." 


TUB  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

Perhaps  through  the  minds  of  both  there  passed 
the  same  thought,  that  if  this  were  to  be  indeed  the 
end  of  all  things,  it  would  he  sweet  to  die  together. 
They  would  mitigate  with  their  warm  hand-clasps 
the  chill  and  dreary  way  to  eternity. 

The  noise  of  the  tempest  increased  to  an  awful 
roar.  Drops  of  a  warm,  viscid,  loathsome  mud  fell 
in  their  faces  and  on  their  clothing.  Green  leaves, 
rent  from  their  parent  stems,  were  thicker  in  this 
blast  than  are  withered  ones  in  autumn,  and  inter- 
mingled with  them  were  broken  twigs,  blossoms, 
dead  birds,  and  wraiths  of  mist.  .  A  semi-obscurity 
enveloped  the  refugees,  while  a  vast  wall  of  murky 
blackness  seemed  about  to  overwhelm  them.  Bulky 
objects,  brought  from  afar,  the  impact  of  which  would 
have  been  sudden  death,  fell  around  them.  There 
were  the  figure-head  and  part  of  the  forecastle  of  the 
brig  Orphan  Boy,  the  cupola  of  the  Johannisberger 
House,  and  the  refreshment-booth  of  Coffee  John,  a 
great  section  of  the  metal  cornice  of  the  city  hall, 
and  the  tongue  and  wheels  of  a  heavy  baggage  wa^on. 
Though  the  wall  of  gloom  at  no  time  wholly  over- 
spread the  party,  it  was  night  instead  of  day  around 
them.  It  seemed  a  time  of  almost  Apocalyptic  ter- 
rors. The  books  of  judgment  were  about  to  be 
opened,  and  all  the  vials  of  wrath  poured  forth. 

Old  Fahnenstock  began  to  pray  aloud,  possibly 
with  a  trace  of  exultation,  even  in  the  midst  of  his 
terror,  that  his  appalling  forecasts  were  at  last  about 
to  be  realized. 

"O  all  ye  lightnings  and  clouds,"  he  said,  "bless 
the  Lord  ;  praise  and  exalt  him  above  all  forever  !  " 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  359 

"  I  am  here,"  murmured  Paul  Barclay  to  his  be- 
loved companion. 

"  I  do  not  fear,"  she  returned. 

If  she  trembled,  it  was  with  some  involuntary  phys- 
ical tremor,  but  with  none  of  the  mind  or  heart.  She 
rested  her  head  against  his  shoulder,  and  they  waited 
in  the  darkness. 

"  We  are  but  as  the  chaff  of  the  threshing  floor, 
before  thee,"  Fahnenstock  went  on,  sonorously.  "  He 
made  the  midst  of  the  furnace  like  a  blowing  wind. 
Thy  kingdom  hath  consumed  all  these  kingdoms,  and 
it  shall  stand  forever." 

The  tornado  wrecked  many  large  trees  around  the 
field,  so  that  their  upper  portions  were  found,  after- 
wards, whipped  to  shreds.  William  Alfsen,  who  was 
a  little  in  advance  of  the  rest,  and  nearer  to  it,  was 
violently  seized  by  a  wandering  gust,  whirled  twice  or 
thrice  round  a  sapling  to  which  he  clung  for  support, 
and  was  thrown  to  the  ground.  With  this,  however, 
it  seemed  to  have  reached  its  farthest  point.  It  was 
perhaps  checked  in  part  by  a  stout  quickset  hedge, 
bordering  the  other  side  of  the  highroad,  with  which 
it  wrestled  furiously,  and  over  which  it  paused  for 
some  time,  as  if  recognizing  an  enemy  rather  worthy 
of  its  steel.  A  woful  snapping  and  crackling,  such  as 
might  have  been  made  by  fire,  was  heard  in  this 
hedge,  and  also  a  loud,  sucking  noise  as  the  plants 
were  drawn  bodily  from  the  ground.  They  were  par- 
ticularly old  and  tough,  and  it  was  estimated  by  com- 
petent judges  that  a  greater  force  was  required  to 
uproot  them  than  the  strongest  oaks. 


360  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

The  air  again  grew  lighter.  The  baffled  or  capri- 
cious visitant  distinctly  turned  aside,  struck  a  new 
course,  and  began  to  move  off  to  the  northwestward. 
The  little  group  of  fugitives  dared  not  at  once  rise 
from  the  ground,  or  credit  the  reality  of  their  de- 
liverance ;  but  when  it  was  certain,  they  exchanged 
the  most  joyful  words  and  hand-shakings  of  congrat- 
ulation. 

The  danger  over  and  dazed  faculties  grown  calmer, 
the  sky  again  appeared  to  threaten  rain,  and  soon  all 
was  haste  and  confusion  to  be  back  again  in  town. 
Barclay  found  the  horses  he  had  tethered  to  the  fence 
severely  maimed  by  falling  debris,  and  rendered 
wholly  unserviceable.  He  was  casting  about  to 
make  some  disposition  of  Mrs.  Varemberg,  when  the 
Radbrooks  drove  up  and  offered  her  a  vacant  seat  in 
their  carriage.  They  had  waited  not  far  from  the 
scene  of  the  fete  itself,  and  had  escaped  with  perhaps 
less  inconvenience  than  any  of  their  friends.  Having 
seen  Mrs.  Varemberg  safely  bestowed,  Barclay,  left 
to  his  own  resources,  set  out  to  walk.  He  had  pro- 
ceeded but  a  little  way,  when  he  was  overtaken  by  a 
man  in  a  light  spring  wagon,  who  offered  to  take  him 
in.  It  proved  to  be  Welby  Goff,  of  the  Index.  Mi-. 
Goff  was  in  a  very  affable,  chatty  mood,  and  appar- 
ently anxious  to  find  some  one  to  talk  to  about  what 
they  had  both  witnessed. 

"  I  Ve  been  canvassing  a  nursery  and  garden-seeds 
place,  out  this  way,"  he  said,  by  way  of  explaining 
his  presence  on  the  road.  "  I  struck  it  for  an  article 
and  advertisement,  and  got  'em,  too.  After  that,  I 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  361 

was  just  going  to  start  over  Wauwatosa  way,  where 
I  've  had  a  party  on  the  string  for  some  time,  when  I 
saw  this  coming,  and  turned  round.  I  've  watched  it 
all  along  the  road,  and  had  solid  comfort  out  of  it.  I 
knew  from  the  first  it  was  n't  near  enough  to  do  me 
any  harm." 

"  You  are  a  person  of  judgment." 

"  Judgment  ?  A  newspaper  man  has  to  be.  He  's 
got  to  see  how  close  he  can  run  to  some  lively  new 
sensation  all  the  time,  and  then  stand  out  from  under 
before  it  has  a  chance  to  fall  on  him." 

"  We  shall  see  some  curious  sights  when  we  get  to 
town,"  suggested  Paul  Barclay. 

"  It  will  be  a  circus,  and  no  mistake.  I  would  n't 
miss  it  for  a  farm.  I  've  seen  some  of  the  biggest 
things  there  is,  in  my  time,  —  I  make  it  a  point  to 
keep  posted,  —  but  probably  this  will  lay  way  over 
any  of  ?em." 

"  You  don't  let  it  depress  your  spirits,  I  see  ?  " 

"  Well,  hardly.  There 'snot  much  depress  about 
this  ;  it 's  the  biggest  chance  to  pick  up  news  items 
that  was  ever  struck.  You  want  to  look  out  for  the 
extra  Index,  these  next  few  days,  —  that 's  all.  It 
will  make  your  hair  curl." 

The  retreating  tornado  moved  slowly  and  in  ever- 
widening  circles.  As  if  fatigued  with  rapine  and  too 
heavily  gorged  with  all  the  spoil  it  had  gathered,  it 
was  continually  throwing  out,  over  its  upper  rim,  a 
rain  of  the  smaller  articles  it  had  carried  up  to  a  great 
height. 

"  Chucks  'em  out  in  a  kind  o'  lazy  way,  now  that 


362  TUE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

it  has  n't  any  more  use  for  'em,"  commented  the 
amateur  in  large  sights,  in  terms  that  well  enough 
described  the  phenomenon.  "  A  fellow  could  prob- 
ably pick  up  stuff  of  a  good  deal  of  value,  if  he  had 
time  to  attend  to  it,"  he  went  on  ;  "  but  /'ve  got  to 
get  back  to  town." 

His  eyes  were  actively  on  the  alert,  however,  among 
these  objects,  and  he  could  not  forbear  getting  down, 
now  and  then,  to  forage  a  little.  He  made  a  pretext 
of  tightening  a  buckle  or  adjusting  a  strap  on  the 
harness,  as  often  as  he  did  so. 

There  were,  indeed,  marvelous  items  to  be  told  of 
this  day.  The  Index  was  to  revel  in  them,  and  the 
Johannisberger  House  to  have  stories  for  its  gossips 
for  many  a  year  to  come.  Miracles  of  delicacy  as 
well  as  incredible  force  had  been  wrought.  Locomo- 

O 

tives  had  been  raised  into  the  air  and  mill-stones 
broken  asunder,  at  the  same  time  that  the  fragile  jars 
of  colored  liquid  in  a  druggist's  window  had  been 
spared,  though  buried  under  jagged  rubbish.  There 
were  startling  anecdotes  to  be  told  of  letters,  of  legal 
documents,  and  of  a  packet  of  bank-bills  wrenched  out 
of  a  safe.  One  of  the  parties  to  a  lawsuit  was  as  good 
as  served  with  a  process  of  court  that  properly  be- 
longed to  him.  A  long-remiss  debtor,  in  Sheboygan 
County,  had  his  account  —  brought  by  the  wind  from 
the  wrecked  place  of  business  of  his  creditor  — 
thrown  into  his  door-yard.  Conscience-stricken,  as 
if  at  the  direct  interposition  of  Providence,  he  at  last 
hastened  to  town  and  paid  it.  A  tin-type  likeness 
of  a  pretty  girl,  whisked  from  her  home,  was  found 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  363 

stuck  by  a  sharp  corner  into  the  bark  of  a  tree,  far 
away  in  the  country.  It  happened  that  it  was  found 
by  a  man  of  romantic  tendencies,  who  was  greatly 
interested  in  the  circumstance,  and  hunted  up  the 
original  of  the  picture,  with  such  good  results  that  a 
marriage  eventually  took  place  between  the  two. 

But  all  this  was  in  the  future,  and  yet  to  be  col- 
lected, wondered  at,  and  dilated  upon. 

The  newspaper  man  got  down  finally  to  pick  up  a 
packet  of  official-looking  documents  that  lay  in  the 
road.  A  part  of  them  had  become  loosened,  and 
were  about  to  blow  away.  These  eluded  his  grasp, 
as  he  first  stooped  for  them,  but,  persevering,  secured 
them  with  the  rest. 

"No  great  find  here,"  he  said,  disappointedly,  after 
looking  them  over  as  he  walked  back  to  the  wagon. 
"  Latest  news  from  fifteen  years  ago.  Here  's  a 
copy  of  the  old  Keewaydin  Advertiser,  —  ain't  even 
published  now.  Did  you  ever  see  it?  Here's  a 
venerable  old  Chamber  of  Commerce  report.  These 
must  be  some  of  the  documents  that  were  deposited 
in  the  statue  on  the  city  hall.  I  recollect  when  she 
was  dedicated.  They  've  come  quite  a  journey." 

He  tossed  them  all  carelessly  into  Barclay's  lap, 
while  he  went  round  to  the  other  side,  to  give  a  blow, 
with  a  stone,  to  a  bolt  that  had  begun  to  shake  it- 
self loose. 

Paul  Barclay  turned  over  these  papers  with  a  cer- 
tain reverence  and  interest.  The  random  prediction 
of  the  old  weather-vane  maker,  ridiculous  as  it 
seemed,  had  come  true,  after  all.  The  Golden  Justice 


364  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

had  fallen,  and  scattered  her  contents  broadcast,  and 
here  was  the  bulk  of  them,  tossed  at  his  very  feet. 
There  was  no  doubt  as  to  their  identity ;  each  was 
plainly  marked  with  a  stamp  showing  its  origin. 
Here  was  the  copy  of  the  school  census,  here  the 
Chamber  of  Commerce  report,  here  the  copy  of  the 
ancient  Examiner,  here  —  Suddenly  he  uttered  a 
smothered  exclamation.  He  had  come  upon  some- 
thing interesting  indeed. 

He  brushed  away  most  of  the  others  with  an  in- 
voluntary movement,  and  devoted  himself  with  all 
his  eyes  to  a  paper  bearing  in  a  plain  hand  the  in- 
scription, The  Confession  of  a  Repentant  Man.  Be- 
low this,  as  a  secondary  head,  in  equally  legible 
writing,  was,  Being  a  True  Account  of  the  Connec- 
tion of  David  Lane  with  the  Disaster  at  the  Chip- 
pewa  Street  Bridge,  and  the  Deaths  of  Christopher 
Barclay  and  Stanislaus  Zelinsky. 

"  What 's  the  matter  ?  "  asked  his  companion,  who 
had  again  mounted  to  his  place  beside  him. 

"  I  thought  we  were  going  to  get  another  jolt," 
said  Barclay,  and  quickly  changed  the  subject.  The 
wreck  of  a  once  beautiful  dwelling,  that  lay  close  at 
hand,  afforded  a  ready  diversion.  A  part  of  its  ma- 
terial was  piled  up  like  veritable  cord-wood.  The 
ornamental  trees  in  its  spacious  door-yard  had  been 
torn  to  strings  by  the  fury  of  the  gale,  and  a  few 
pitiful  rags  of  clothing  fluttered  from  their  bare 
stems.  Barclay  screened  his  paper  from  observation 
among  the  others,  and  managed  to  read  it  piecemeal. 
He  read  it  twice  more,  without  exciting  suspicion, 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  365 

studied  every  sentence  intently,  and  then  secreted  it 
about  his  person. 

How  violently  his  heart  beat  as  he  read !  What 
new  light  this  strange  history,  so  miraculously  brought 
to  his  knowledge,  cast  back  over  all  the  past !  How 
many  things  it  explained ! 

And  now  what  should  he  do  ?  Had  the  instrument 
been  delivered  to  him  as  the  means  of  a  just  retribu- 
tion ?  Was  he  to  arise,  like  another  Hamlet,  and 
signally  avenge  the  slaying  of  his  father,  and  the 
unmerited  suffering  so  long  visited  upon  himself  ? 

Whatever  may  have  been  his  meditations,  at  the 
conclusion  of  them  his  eyes  gazed  lovingly  in  the 
direction  in  which  Mrs.  Varemberg  had  disappeared. 
He  involuntarily  stretched  out  his  hand  towards  her, 
as  she  had  to  her  father,  from  the  hill-top. 

"  Where  shall  I  set  you  down  ?  "  his  companion 
asked  him,  after  a  time,  arousing  him  from  reverie. 

"  I  will  not  take  you  out  of  your  way,"  returned 
Barclay. 

"  It 's  all  the  same  to  me.  One  place  is  as  good 
as  another.  There  will  be  items  enough  every- 
where." 

"  At  the  city  hall,  then,  if  quite  convenient." 

Meantime,  the  acute  disturbance  of  the  air,  that 
had  wrought  so  much  havoc,  had  grown  heavy  and 
sluggish  in  its  movements,  and  was  fast  losing  its  dis- 
tinctive character.  It  proceeded  now  at  some  little 
distance  above  the  ground,  to  which  it  seldom  de- 
scended to  do  further  harm. 

During  the  time  of  its  most  furious  energy  it  had 


366  TEE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

absorbed  into  itself  all  other  forces,  but  now  crinkling 
lightnings  began  to  play  in  its  track,  like  satellites 
around  the  triumph  of  some  truculent  monarch. 
It  ceased  to  be  a  hurricane,  and  then  swept  on  some 
twenty  miles  further  across  the  country,  as  a  violent 
storm  of  rain  and  hail.  The  wind  at  Keewaydin 
shifted  round  and  blew  from  the  north,  and  the 
wounded  who  lay  unattended  where  they  fell  began 
to  groan  anew,  under  the  pain  of  their  stiffening 
wounds. 

The  cold  was  so  severe  that  night  that  thin  ice 
formed  on  the  ponds,  and  the  heaviest  hoar  frost 
known  in  years  grievously  damaged  all  the  fruit 
crop. 


XVII. 

ASTR^EA    REDUX. 

DAVID  LANE  had  returned  to  his  office,  as  we  have 
seen,  to  await  the  coming  of  night,  and  the  renewal 
of  his  attempt. 

While  there  he  busied  himself  with  his  papers, 
received  visitors,  and  attended  to  the  other  duties  of 
his  usual  routine.  Ives  Wilson  dropped  in,  and 
talked  awhile  on  the  happy  results  of  the  late  elec- 
tion. He  was  getting  up  a  column  of  "  City  Hall 
Notes,"  for  the  nonce,  in  place  of  TVelby  Goff.  He 
had  a  fancy  for  setting  all  departments  of  his  paper 
in  turn  an  example  of  the  way  in  which  he  himself 
would  manage  their  respective  specialties. 

The  next  visitor  was  Schwartzmann,  the  sculptor 
of  the  Golden  Justice.  He  came  to  pay  his  respects 
previous  to  starting  for  Europe,  where  he  had  some 
artistic  commissions  to  execute  for  David  Lane, 
among  others. 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  he,  in  the  course  of  con- 
versation, "that  the  Justice,  on  the  dome,  above 
there,  pleases  me  about  as  well  as  anything  I  ever 
did  ?  There  are  some  mighty  good  things  about  that 
figure,  if  I  say  it  myself.  I  've  just  been  looking  at 
it  again,  from  different  points  of  view.  There 's  a 
'go'  about  it  that  I  'm  not  always  certain  of  getting 
nowadays  even  when  I  want  to  the  most." 


368  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

He  had  a  sort  of  business-like  and  at  the  same 
time  almost  impersonal  and  naive  manner  of  praising 
his  own  work  that  mainly  relieved  it  of  its  offensive- 
ness. 

"  But  where  could  one  have  found  such  another 
model  as  I  had  ?  "  he  went  on.  "  Your  charming 
daughter  too  has  changed  since  then  —  she  is  more 
spin'tuelle  of  course  —  even  lovelier  than  before," 
he  hastened  to  add,  by  way  of  disclaiming  disparage- 
ment, "  but  just  that  precise  union  of  soul  and  phy- 
sique that  makes  the  true  goddess  type,  I  hardly 
ever  expect  to  meet  with  again." 

"  Yes,  she  has  changed,"  assented  her  father,  ab- 
stractedly. 

This  criticism  served  to  bring  vividly  before  him 
anew  his  daughter's  features,  her  situation,  the  Gold- 
en Justice,  the  dizzy  height  to  which  he  must  climb, 
the  whole  painful  ordeal  awaiting  him.  Why  did 
the  talk,  the  actions,  of  all  the  world,  even  the  most 
indifferent,  now  seem  to  harp  on  but  this  single 
theme  ? 

"  I  don't  know  as  there 's  more  than  one  small 
detail  I  'd  alter  if  I  was  doing  the  work  over  again," 
pursued  Schwartzmann.  "  I  think  I  should  now  put 
the  figure  on  a  cone-shaped  base,  instead  of  that  glob- 
ular one,  and  have  it,  say,  a  few  feet  lower.  If  she 
should  ever  come  down  for  anything,  I  'd  like  to  be 
allowed  to  make  that  change." 

O 

A  futile  suggestion  of  hope,  such  as  some  others 
he  had  formerly  indulged,  flitted  through  the  mind 
of  the  mayor.  Might  not  he  possibly  encourage 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  369 

Schwartzruann  to  head  a  movement  for  having  the 

O 

Golden  Justice  taken  down,  and  set  up  again  on  a 
cone-shaped  pedestal,  some  feet  lower?  The  fancy 
was  but  a  passing  one.  Ah,  no ;  the  emendation 
proposed  would  be  looked  upon  by  the  hard-headed 
devotees  of  economy  as  the  veriest  trifle  ;  they  would 
appropriate  no  funds  for  such  a  purpose. 

Schvvartzmann  presently  took  his  departure.  The 
mayor  was  immersed  to  the  eyes  in  his  papers,  when 
the  same  gust  of  rain  and  hail  that  devastated  the 
flowers  at  Fahnenstock's  cottage  smote  upon  the  city 
hall.  The  hail  broke  some  lights  of  glass  in  the 
dome  of  the  rotunda,  and  rattled  briskly  down  upon 
the  marble  pavement.  The  janitor  hastened  anx- 
iously up  from  his  basement  regions,  to  lend  a  hand, 
like  a  stout  beaver  coming  to  the  top  when  his  dam 
is  assailed  by  trappers. 

The  sun  shone  out  anew,  but  presently  the  air 
grew  obscure  and  yet  more  obscure.  Even  David 
Lane,  preoccupied  as  he  tried  to  be,  could  not  long 
remain  unaware  that  some  portentous  atmospheric 
disturbance  was  impending.  As  the  tornado  drew 
near,  the  mayor  heard  a  distant  sound  like  the  roar 
of  the  sea,  which  gradually  increased  in  volume. 
Hasty  footsteps  were  heard  in  the  halls  without,  and 
voices  speaking  in  alarm.  The  roar  grew'  nearer 
and  louder,  till  it  became  an  infernal  din.  David 
Lane  rose  and  hurried  to  look  out  of  his  window. 

For  one  brief  lurid  instant  he  had  a  vision  as  of 
chaos  come  again.  Trees  uprooted  iu  the  square, 
twisting  around  one  another  like  serpents  or  strands 


370  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

of  rope,  were  coming  towards  him,  on  the  wings  of 
the  furious  gale.  The  atmosphere,  choked  with  dust, 
torn  leaves,  miscellaneous  small  debris  of  every  kind, 
resembled  turbulent  clouds  of  dark  smoke.  The  shock 
of  the  mighty  force  impinged  upon  the  fagade  of  the 
building,  and,  at  the  same  moment,  all  was  enveloped 
in  the  blackness  of  the  night,  which  the  tornado  car- 
ried in  its  bosom.  A  riven  tree  trunk  burst  through 
the  window,  carrying  sash  and  frame  with  it,  and, 
drenched  with  mud  and  weeds,  lay  in  the  midst  of 
the  floor  like  a  snag  from  the  Mississippi.  The  city 
hall  rocked  to  its  foundations.  The  lights  were  ex- 
tinguished. The  plastering  of  the  room  fell  in  large 
sections,  and  electric  sparks  played  upon  its  ceiling 
and  walls,  like  scintillations  from  an  emery  wheel. 

The  mayor,  in  this  pandemonium,  had  turned  away 
with  an  instinctive  impulse  to  escape,  and  groped  his 
way  to  the  door.  As  he' laid  a  hand  upon  it,  and 
before  he  had  time  to  make  any  effort  of  his  own,  it 
suddenly  flew  open,  yielding  to  a  resistless,  expansive 
force  within  the  building,  and  struck  him  a  violent 
blow.  He  was  burled  backwards,  and  fell,  stunned 
and  bleeding,  to  the  floor. 

As  he  lay  thus  prone,  in  stupor,  he  knew  not  how 
long,  his  fancy  renewed  the  scene,  of  years  long  past, 
at  the  ••Chippewa  Street  bridge.  He  thought  that  it 
was  by  the  collision  with  the  propeller  Pride  of  the 
West  that  he  was  once  more  hurled  down,  crushed, 
and  suffering  in  every  limb.  Then  he  thought  he 
was  again  awakening  from  his  heavy  sleep,  as  in  the 
morning  just  past.  The  traces  of  havoc  around  him 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  371 

struck  on  his  sight  at  first  like  a  part  of  his  troubled 
dreams.  But  then,  with  an  effort,  he  remembered 
where  he  was,  the  convulsion  of  nature  that  had 
passed  over,  and  all  that  had  befallen  him.  His  first 
anxious  thought  was  for  the  Golden  Justice,  and  the 
mission  yet  awaiting  him.  All  was  now  still.  It 
was  light  again.  The  great  building  no  longer  vi- 
brated. He  seemed  to  have  been  lying  there  a  very 
long  time.  In  reality,  it  was  some  three  quarters  of 
an  hour. 

He  rose  from  the  floor,  gathering  his  battered 
frame  painfully  together.  "  Surely,"  he  said  to  him- 
self, "  the  dome  has  gone  ;  the  statue  can  never  have 
weathered  it."  And  he  thought  with  sinking  heart 
of  the  fate  of  the  papers  he  had  made  such  herculean 
efforts  to  obtain. 

As  he  sallied  forth,  the  inmates  of  the  building, 
who  had  fled  in  a  general  stampede,  were  cautiously 
venturing  back  again,  and  marveling  aloud  to  find 
that  so  little  damage  had  been  done  their  offices  and 
the  structure  as  a  whole.  David  Lane  overheard 
one  of  them  saying  to  another,  — 

"  The  yellow  gal  from  the  dome  looks  as  if  she 
were  laid  out  for  her  wake,  eh,  piled  up  there  among 
that  lot  of  trees.  What  kept  the  whole  upper  works 
from  coming  down  with  her  is  more  than  I  can  see, 
blest  if  it  ain't !  "  It  was  thus  that  the  Golden  Justice 
was  designated,  as  is  perhaps  the  irreverent  way  of 
the  Americans  with  their  statues  generally,  —  which, 
to  be  sure,  do  not  often  deserve  greater  consideration. 
David  Lane  knew  well  what  was  meant.  "  Oh,  my 


372  TEE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE 

prophetic  soul !  "  he  might  have  exclaimed.  His 
worst  premonitions  were  verified.  The  Golden  Jus- 
tice was  down.  And  now  those  papers,  —  could 
they  be  still  intact  in  their  box  ?  or  into  whose  hands 
had  they  already  fallen  ?  The  people  who  were  com- 
ing in  tried  to  detain  him,  to  tell  him  of  their  in- 
dividual experiences  and  inquire  his  own,  to  demand 
his  theories,  to  ask  directions  from  him;  but  he 
pushed  them  aside,  and  went  on  his  way. 

It  was  twilight  now.  Rather  the  diffused  storm- 
clouds,  a  mass  of  which  had  settled  in  the  west  in 
heavy  leaden  strata,  which  the  sunset  enlivened  only 
with  a  few  dull  red  bars,  had  created  an  artificial  twi- 
light. The  mayor  looked  back  and  up  at  the  city  hall. 
The  tornado  had  either  found  it  too  stout  an  antago- 
nist, or  had  not  well  planned  the  attack.  It  had  been 
shaken  as  with  a  mighty  hand,  it  is  true,  and  in  cer- 
tain spots  had  taken  on  a  ragged,  half-archaic  appear- 
ance ;  one  of  the  lesser  domes  of  the  wings,  a  great 
iron  column  from  one  of  the  porticoes,  and  liberal 
sections  of  its  iron  cornices,  for  instance,  had  gone ; 
but,  in  the  main,  it  had  stood  the  ordeal. '  After  some 
profitable  days'  work  by  the  ingenious  race  of  con- 
tractors, it  would  be  about  as  good  as  ever.  Its  cen- 
tral dome  did  not  appear  to  have  suffered  in  the  least; 
the  cupola,  or  lantern,  upon  it  was  intact ;  only  the 
Golden  Justice,  from  its  apex,  had  gone. 

The  eyes  of  the  man  whose  destiny  was  so  bound 
up  with  hers  roved  wildly,  pathetically,  about.  He 
soon  caught  a  trace  of  the  figure.  A  gleam  from  her 
shining  surface  came  to  him  from  above  a  formidable 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  373 

mass  of  wreckage.  Going  thither,  he  found  her  lying 
as  in  state,  a  little  inclined,  her  head  supported  on 
the  ruined  fountain.  The  uprooted  tree  trunks,  as 
they  had  been  tossed  together,  inclosed  her  on  three 
•sides  in  a  bristling  chevaux-de-frise,  resembling  some- 
what an  early  Indian  redoubt. 

The  tempest  had  used  a  certain  consideration  or 
gallantry  in  dealing  with  the  statue ;  respected,  as  it 
were,  the  very  charming  person  it  represented.  It 
had  brought  it  down  lightly,  leaving  the  comely  feat- 
ures calm  and  smiling  still,  and  but  little  distorted 
by  fractures.  The  chief  damage  appeared  about  the 
lower  portion  of  the  drapery,  where  it  had  joined 
with  the  supporting  pedestal.  Here  considerable  por- 
tions of  the  metal  had  been  rent  away,  exposing  the 
mechanical  devices  of  the  interior  construction. 

David  Lane,  bending  above  the  figure,  discerned 
plainly  the  trace  of  Jus  tampering  with  it  the  night 
before.  Breathless  with  anxiety  and  dread,  he  saw 
that  the  metal  box  of  the  receptacle  was  shattered, 
and  its  precious  contents  were  missing. 

His  forces  deserted  him,  and  he  seated  himself, 
bowed  with  dismay,  upon  a  projecting  fragment  of 
the  debris.  "  Alas  ! "  he  said,  "  it  has  been  carried 
away  by  the  four  winds  of  heaven.  From  what  quar- 
ter will  detection  overtake  me  ?  " 

Later,  he  tried  to  argue  with  himself :  "  Why  may 
it  not  have  fallen  in  the  lake,  or  in  some  ploughed 
field,  some  swamp  or  piece  of  lonely  woods,  where  it 
will  rot  undisturbed,  and  no  human  eye  ever  rest  up- 
on it?" 


374  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

He  searched  the  vicinity  with  eager  eyes,  but  no 
vestige  of  any  of  the  papers  appeared.  They  had 
probably  been  loosed  and  taken  flight  like  a  flock  of 
birds  while  still  far  aloft.  He  was  roused  by  the 
voices  of  Schwartzmann  the  sculptor  and  Ives  Wil- 
son the  editor  who  had  climbed  over  an  end  of  the 
rugged  barricade.  The  latter  was  rapidly  possessing 
himself,  note-book  in  hand,  of  all  the  striking  details 
of  the  sights  and  scenes  around  him,  having  senf 
Welby  Goff  off  on  a  more  distant  mission.  Like  his 
subordinate,  whom  he  had  well  trained,  he  was  brim- 
ming over  with  interest,  not  to  say  enthusiasm.  He 
meant  to  make  the  Tornado  Edition  of  the  Index  the 
event  of  his  lifetime. 

"  As  to  the  statue,  the  head  is  unharmed,  you  see. 
It  can  be  set  up  again,  about  as  good  as  ever,  at  no 
great  expense,"  Lane  heard  Schwartzmann  saying ; 
"  and  this  time,  I  would  like  it  to  have  a  little  differ- 
ent pedestal." 

"  Here  is  a  curious  thing,"  said  Ives  Wilson,  stoop- 
ing to  examine  it.  "  Here  is  a  place  that  looks  as  if 
it  had  been  regularly  cut  out  with  a  saw.  A  brace 
is  cut,  too,  —  looks  as  fresh  as  if  done  yesterday.  It 
beats  everything  what  pranks  the  lightning  can 
play." 

"If  it  was  done  by  the  lightning,  'yesterday'  is 
rather  an  ancient  date,  is  it  not?"  said  the  first 
speaker.  "  But  the  fact  is  that  tornadoes  have  noth- 
ing to  do  with  electricity.  It  used  to  be  thought 
necessary  to  thus  account  for  their  capers,  but  the  idea 
is  exploded.  They  are  purely  atmospheric  force." 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE,  375 

Wilson  disputed  this,  Schwartzmanu  reaffirmed  it. 
They  caught  sight  of  David  Lane,  and  deferred  their 
controversy  to  him ;  but  he  evaded  them,  and  re- 
newed, instead,  his  disconsolate  quest  about  the  vicin- 
ity for  some  trace  of  the  missing  document.  He  set 
out —  perhaps  beside  himself,  and  not  quite  conscious 
of  all  he  did  —  to  pick  his  steps  first  away  from,  and 
then  towards,  the  Golden  Justice  by  many  different 
paths. 

This,  then,  was  the  end  of  all  his  diplomacy,  his 
arts,  his  indomitable  perseverance,  his  sufferings,  his 
feats  of  physical  strength.  He  was  betrayed  by  the 
very  elements.  He  would  have  called  back  the 
pledge  he  had  given  to  justice,  but  the  opportunity 
was  taken  from  him.  As  if  the  wish  to  do  so  had 
served  as  a  signal,  the  secret  was  placed  forever  be- 
yond his  reach  and  recall.  It  was  launched  into 
space,  published  broadcast.  The  wretched  evil-doer 
was  now  to  face  the  obloquy  of  the  world,  and  to  be 
visited,  as  well,  with  the  condign  punishment  of  the 
law  due  his  crime.  He  could  formulate  no  plan  for 
his  next  immediate  actions.  Could  he  ever  meet  his 
family  again  ?  He  hardly  even  thought  of  the  perils 
they  also  might  have  met  with  in  the  tornado.  That 
great  convulsion  itself  was  all  but  forgotten.  Should 
he  fly  and  hide  his  shame  in  a  foreign  dominion  ? 
No,  he  could  only  dumbly  await  his  fate. 

Paul  Barclay  alighted  at  his  house  in  the  city  hall 
square.  His  inquiring  eye  missed  the  Golden  Justice 
from  her  accustomed  place,  and,  ranging  around,  soon 


376  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

caught  a  glimpse  of  her,  as  David  Lane  had  done,  ly- 
ing on  her  funeral  pyre,  or  amid  the  stockade-like 
heap  of  rubbish.  He  thought  good  to  hasten  at  first 
to  see  how  his  relations,  the  amiable  Thornbrooks,  h:ul 
met  the  dangers  of  these  exciting  times.  He  found 
them  well  and  unharmed  ;  the  hurricane  had  passed 
by  them,  on  the  other  side  of  the  park.  He  then  re- 
paired to  his  room,  hurriedly  made  some  much-needed 
changes  in  his  damaged  attire,  sat  down  and  read  the 
confession  over  again,  word  by  word,  with  the  most 
sedulous  care,  and  once  more  sallied  forth. 

He  did  not  yet  know  what  he  should  do  with  the 
document  so  providentially  conveyed  to  his  hands. 
His  ideas  were  still  in  a  whirl  over  this  most  singular 

O 

of  situations.'  It  was  now  likely  that  he  would  see 
David  Lane ;  indeed,  it  was  with  that  object  that  he 
had  come  hither.  What  should  he  say  to  him? 

But  his  thoughts  continually  mingled  together  the 
father  and  the  daughter.  He  had  suffered  a  grievous 
wrong,  his  life  had  been  marred,  his  mother  and  sis- 
ters had  been  bereft  of  their  mainstay  and  comforter. 
What  punishment  did  not  the  perpetrator  of  all  this, 
the  cause  of  so  much  suffering,  deserve,  in  spite  of 
his  bizarre  attempt  at  satisfaction,  in  spite  of  his  hav- 
ing committed  himself  to  a  fantastic  ideal  of  justice  ? 
These  had  been  his  gloomy  ponderings,  at  first,  as  he 
rode  along  to  town.  But  now  he  did  not  seem  a 
man  struggling  wholly  with  bitter  resentment.  He 
had  permitted  himself  even  a  speculative  interest.  It 
was  all  so  very  long  ago,  this  story.  What  a  strange 
revelation  into  the  character  of  David  Lane  was  it 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  377 

not!  Was  Barclay,  then,  recreant  to  the  memory  of 
his  own  dearly  loved  parent  ?  Ah,  no ;  but  at  present 
the  sweet  affection  by  which  he  was  held  gave  to  all 
other  opinions  and  feelings,  even  this,  an  exceeding 
remoteness.  No  doubt,  too,  the  scenes  of  devastation 
and  death  through  which  he  had  passed  by  the  way, 
and  the  recent  memory  of  the  mighty  force  of  nature, 
so  dwarfing  to  all  sublunary  things,  had  their  effect 
upon  his  state  of  mind. 

He  directed  himself  towards  the  overthrown  Gold- 
en Justice,  in  which  he  had  held  so  tremendous  a 
stake.  His  interest  in  it  was  now  fully  accounted  for, 
above  and  beyond  all  past  explanations.  He  descried 
David  Lane  pursuing  his  wistful  search,  and  quickly 
divined  its  object.  The  latter,  raising  his  head  at  the 
sound  of  approaching  footsteps,  suddenly  discovered 
the  one  man  of  all  others  who  should  have  been  far 
from  him  at  such  a  time,  —  the  man  with  whom  fate 
had  brought  him  into  such  astounding  relations. 
Surely,  however,  it  was  but  a  coincidence.  It  would 
be  miraculous  to  suppose  that  Barclay  had  already 
become  possessed  of  his  secret.  It  would  come,  no 
doubt,  but  not  so  directly  as  this.  For  the  time  be- 
ing, and  until  the  blow  should  fall,  this  visitor  might 
be  regarded  like  any  other,  in  whose  eyes  he,  the 
mayor,  was  still  the  honored  citizen,  the  figure  of 
unimpeached  standing,  the  model  of  probity.  He 
thought  that  the  younger  man  would  recall  only  the 
match  with  his  daughter,  to  which  the  pair  were 
awaiting  his  consent.  Alack  !  his  consent  or  his  re- 
fusal, —  what  did  it  matter  now  ?  All  honorable  pro- 


378  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

ceediugs  in  the  world  were  henceforth  to  take  place 
without  him. 

"  It  has  been  a  terrible  day,"  he  said,  to  make 
talk,  not  daring  to  evade  this  new-comer  as  he  had 
the  others,  "  but  the  worst  is  surely  over." 

"  You  have  lost  something  ?  You  seem  to  be 
searching,"  began  Paul  Barclay,  in  a  vibrating  voice. 

"I  searching?  I  have  lost —  Oh,  no,"  stam- 
mered the  other.  "  There  are  no  doubt  many  ar- 
ticles of  value  scattered  about,  but,  but  —  one  has 
not  time  for  that  as  yet.  I  have  much  to  do.  I  was 
examining  the  state  in  which  the  city  hall  was  left. 
The  damage  is  not  extreme.  It  is  nothing  like  so 
great  as  I  had  expected.  It  might  have  been  much 
worse." 

Still  his  eyes  involuntarily  sought  the  ground, 
over  which  they  wandered,  at  moments,  with  such  a 
feverish  energy  as  if  they  would  have  burned  the 
spot  on  which  they  rested. 

Barclay  paused.  The  gaze  which  he  fixed  upon 
the  averted  head  of  the  man  before  him  was  full  of 
commiseration. 

"  She  came  down,  as  my  weather-prophet  predicted 
she  would,"  he  said,  as  they  stood  together  beside 
the  fallen  Golden  Justice. 

Schwartzmann  and  Ives  Wilson  were  still  heard, 
at  the  further  end  of  the  inclosure,  continuing  their 
argument. 

"  You  don't  suppose  anybody  has  been  cutting  up 
the  image  for  the  value  of  the  metal,  since  the 
storm,  or  climbed  up  there  to  do  it  before?"  de- 
manded "Wilson. 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  379 

"  Well,  no,  it  is  n't  very  likely." 

"  The  way  of  it  was  this,"  went  on  the  editor. 
"  The  opening  was  made  and  the  brace  broken  by 
the  lightning.  That  let  in  the  wind,  and  gave  it  its 
powerful  purchase  inside  the  figure.  If  it  had  n't 
been  weakened  by  the  cutting  of  the  brace,  it  would 
n't  have  come  down  at  all.  It  stands  to  reason. 
You  can  see  for  yourself.  Notice  how  that  light 
cupola  stood  it,  if  you  don't  think  so." 

Barclay's  vision  of  the  night  —  the  man,  with  a 
ladder,  crouched  against  the  pedestal  in  the  fitful 
flashes  of  the  storm  —  once  more  came  before  him. 
He  could  no  longer  doubt  that  it  was  real.  David 
Lane,  too,  had  heard  the  words.  His  very  effort  to 
escape  had  brought  the  image  down. 

"  I  don't  believe  it  was  ever  done  by  lightning," 
persisted  Schwartzmann. 

Upon  this  the  two  walked  away,  disappearing 
through  a  gap  in  the  chevaux-de-frise  at  the  other  end 
of  the  unwieldy  bulk,  where  they  had  been  posted. 

"  I  must  go  and  look  after  my  —  my  house.  I 
have  not  been  near  it  yet,"  said  the  mayor,  apologiz- 
ing for  a  move  of  withdrawal.  He  had  roused  him- 
self from  his  preoccupation,  and  perhaps  really  har? 
bored  some  such  intention.  But  with  what  front  was 
he  to  present  himself  again  at  his  home?  "Would  that 
he  had  died,  rather,  by  the  fury  of  the  hurricane  ! 

"  Your  daughter  is  safe  and  well,"  said  Paul 
Barclay. 

"  She  is  safe  ?     You  have  seen  her  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  have  but  just  left  her.  She  has  come  to 
no  harm." 


380  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

"  Thank  God  for  that !  " 

There  could  be  no  doubt  of  the  fatherly  interest 
that  spoke  in  such  a  voice.  He  still  continued,  how- 
ever, his  movement  to  withdraw.  He  pleaded,  also, 
public  duties  that  would  soon  demand  his  attention. 
Barclay  watched  him  depart  a  few  steps ;  then,  re- 
luctantly, — 

"  I  spoke  of  a  loss.  What  if  I  had  found  the  ob- 
ject of  your  search  ?  " 

"  A  loss  ?  "  said  the  mayor,  turning  sharply. 
"  Have  I  not  said  "  — 

But  his  glance,  which  had  risen  to  meet  that  of 
Barclay,  discovered  something  stern  and  mysterious 
there.  It  fell  again  before  it,  and  he  left  the  sen- 
tence unfinished. 

"  Give  yourself  no  further  concern  for  its  destina- 
tion. I  have  found  it,"  said  the  younger  man. 

"  Oh,  no,  you  have  not  found  that  for  which  I 
was  looking.  .It  may  be  so  later,  but  not  yet,  not  yet. 
You  speak  of  other  things." 

"  Shall  I  describe  it  to  you  ?  Was  it  not  a  certain 
document  which  had  been  sealed  up  in  this  statue  ? 
Was  it  not  indorsed  in  a  most  legible  hand,  The  Con- 
fession of  a  Repentant  Man  ?" 

"God!  Ton  have  found  it?  You  know  all?" 
cried  the  mayor,  with  a  shudder  of  indescribable 
anguish  and  dismay. 

"  Was  it  not  called  further,  A  True  Account  of 
the  Connection  of  David  Lane  with  the  Disaster  at 
the  Chippewa  Street  Bridge,  and  the  Deaths  of 
Christopher  Barclay  and  Stanislaus  Zeliiisky  ?  " 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  381 

"  How  can  it  be  possible  that  it  has  come  into 
your  hands,  —  you  who  should  have  been  the  last  in 
the  world  to  hear  it  "  — 

Barclay  silently  drew  forth  the  paper,  and  ex- 
tended it  towards  the  other,  for  the  conviction  which 
the  sight  of  it  must  overwhelmingly  produce.  The 
character  and  superscription  were  plainly  visible. 

David  Lane  fixed  his  eyes  upon  it  with  a  pitiful 
intensity.  Then  he  opened  wide  his  hands,  with  a 
gesture  of  self-abasement  and  overthrow. 

"  What  will  you  do  with  me  ?  "  he  asked  simply. 

It  is  not  the  habit  of  Anglo-Saxons,  trained  to  ab- 
horrence of  "  scenes,"  to  express  emotion  in  the  mel- 
odramatic way.  When  something  important  is  in 
progress,  they  do  not  saw  the  air,  nor  violently  con- 
tort their  bodies.  An  even  greater  impassiveness  of 
manner  than  usual  may  take  the  place  of  demonstra- 
tion. The  voice,  instead  of  being  raised,  is  as  likely 
to  be  sunk  yet  lower.  So  any  spectators  who  might 
have  looked  on  would  by  no  means  have  divined  the 
tragic  nature  of  the  interview  in  progress  between 
the  two  men.  Flushings  and  paleness  would  not  be 
repressed,  it  is  true,  and  there  were  crispations  of  the 
hands,  and  some  subtle  penetrating  tones  that  seemed 
to  vibrate  from  the  very  inmost  depths  of  the  heart ; 
but,  for  the  most  part,  they  faced  each  other,  and 
talked  with  portentous  calm  of  the  momentous  situa- 
tion in  which  they  found  themselves  involved.  David 
Lane,  indeed,  broken  by  his  previous  labors  and  ter- 
rors, had  small  force  remaining  for  effort  of  any 
kind. 


382  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

Paul  Barclay  did  not  directly  reply  to  the  question 
last  put  to  him,  nor  as  yet  exhibit  his  purpose.  He 
led  on  his  interlocutor  to  speak  of  the  history  of  the 
affair. 

"  You  have  made  some  attempts  to  relieve  your- 
self of  this  heavy  burden  ?  "  he  finally  asked.  There 
was  a  definite  significance  in  his  words,  and  yet  he 
was  hardly  prepared,  even  now,  to  hear  so  complete 
a  corroboration  of  his  vision  as  that  laid  before  him 
in  reply. 

"Yes,  last  night  I  endeavored  to  recover  the  con- 
fession. I  climbed  to  the  dome,  and  had  reached  the 
box,  when  my  strength  failed  me.  But  for  the  wind 
and  rain  I  should  have  succeeded.  I  made  the  open- 
ing and  cut  the  brace  of  which  those  men  were 
speaking." 

"  I  knew  it." 

"  How  could  you  possibly  have  known  it  ?  " 

"  I  was  awake,  and,  from  my  window,!  saw  a  man 
on  the  dome.  I  learned  that  you  had  passed  the 
night  at  the  city  hall,  and  I  found  the  paper.  Then 
all  was  explained." 

"  I  should  have  gone  back  and  finished  the  work 
to  -  night,"  said  the  mayor  mournfully.  "  With  the 
paper  once  more  in  my  own  hands,  I  should  have 
been  free.  It  would  have  been  better  for  all  of  us. 
But  Providence  willed  otherwise." 

"And  had  you  made  no  efforts  of  the  kind  be- 
fore ?  " 

"  Never.  There  had  never  been  the  same  over- 
powering stimulus,  nor  had  there  been  an  opportu- 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  383 

nity.  But  at  last  I  could  endure  no  more.  It  was  for 
this  alone  I  became  mayor.  In  no  other  way  could 
I  have  remained  in  the  city  hall  by  night  without 
awakening  suspicion." 

This  was  yet  a  new  revelation  to  Barclay.  The 
involvement  in  the  affair  of  the  destinies  of  a  great 
city  and  its  inhabitants,  the  struggles  and  uncertain- 
ties of  the  political  contest  through  which  they  had 
just  passed,  gave  to  it  an  enlarged  and  more  dignified 
aspect.  It  took  the  air  of  some  strange  epic,  with 
vast  ramifications,  centring  round  the  fortunes  of  him- 
self, David  Lane,  and  Mrs.  Varemberg.  He  saw 
David  Lane,  broken  with  age  and  infirmities  as  never 
before,  bowed  in  humiliation  to  him,  the  younger  man. 
The  pathos  of  such  a  situation,  the  recollection  of 
what  the  labors  of  the  past  night  must  have  been, 
and  the  thought  of  the  many  and  varied  tortures, 
even  if  deserved,  of  all  the  years  gone  by,  combined 
with  his  affection  to  sweep  away  from  his  heart  the 
last  lingering  traces  of  resentment.  Even  the  crime 
itself  seemed  to  him  the  unreasonable  act  of  one,  for 
the  time  being,  of  some  weaker,  less  responsible  order 
of  humanity.  He  was  all  ready  to  say,  — 

"  It  is  the  motive  that  is  to  be  judged,  and  not  the 
consequence.  Surely  you  have  suffered  enough." 
But  before  he  could  open  his  mouth  to  this  purport, 
David  Lane  anticipated  him  with,  — 

"  I  await  your  orders.  You  will  exact  ample  ex- 
piation :  it  is  your  due." 

"  Yes,  I  shall  exact  ample  expiation." 

"  I  am  ready.     I  shall  make  no  complaint  at  what- 


384  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

ever  you  please  to  demand,"  rejoined  David  Lane, 
with  a  melancholy  smile. 

"  Give  me,  then,  your  daughter's  hand  in  mar- 
riage ! "  exclaimed  the  young  man  passionately. 

"  My  daughter  ?  You  can  still  demand  her  ?  "  re- 
turned the  other,  with  a  wholly  astounded  air.  Was 
this  the  punishment  for  which  he  had  sullenly  braced 
himself  ?  "  You  do  not  hate  us  unutterably  ?  You 
do  not  let  this  weigh  with  you  ?  " 

"  There  has  never  been  a  moment  from  the  first 
when  this  wretched  secret  would  have  weighed  with 
me.  Oh,  why  did  you  not  make  it  known  ?  I  loved 
her  more  than  life,  more  than  family,  more  than  any 
and  all  other  interests  whatever.  There  has  never 
been  a  moment,  even  if  the  guilt  were  a  hundred-fold 
greater,  when  it  could  have  diminished  my  loving  re- 
gard for  her,  or  induced  me  to  bring  discredit  upon 
one  whose  fair  fame  and  standing  were  bound  up  in 
hers.  If  you  would  have  been  really  safe,  why  did 
you  not  tell  me  ?  It  was  that  way  most  of  all  that 
safety  lay." 

"  Believe  me,  it  was  not  my  own  safety  I  consult- 
ed," protested  the  mayor,  with  tearful  earnestness. 
"Ah,  what  a  lamentable  error!  Each  successive 
step  of  it  led  to  the  next.  I  thought  it  a  matter  of 
conscientious  duty  to  keep  you  apart.  Believe  me, 
it  was  but  a  misguided  desire  for  your  welfare  and 
hers  that  prompted  it.  I  dreaded  what  would  hap- 
pen when  you  should  one  day  come  to  know,  and  find 
yourself  indissolubly  bound  to  poor  Florence." 

"  Let  us  talk  of  it  no  more.     Come,  let  us  go  to 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  385 

her,"  said  Barclay,  persuasively,  passing  his  arm 
through  that  of  David  Lane.  It  is  doubtful  if  the 
elder  man  could  have  sustained  himself,  so  weak  had 
he  grown,  or  even  risen  from  his  seat,  without  this  aid. 
He  let  himself  be  taken  possession  of,  and  even  went 
on  a  little  way  in  this  fashion  ;  but  then,  all  at  once, 
he  demurred,  and  drew  back  with  horror. 

"  No,"  he  said,  "  I  cannot  go,  I  cannot  meet  her. 
She  was  the  dearest  in  the  world  to  me,  and  I  sacri- 
ficed her  health  and  her  happiness.  My  treatment  of 
her  was  infamous.  How  shall  I  face  the  scorn  and 
bitterness  of  my  daughter  when  she  knows  the  kind 
of  a  father  I  have  been  to  her  ?  " 

"  She  knows  nothing,  and  never  shall  know,"  said 
Barclay,  and  his  manner  had  the  solemnity  of  one 
registering  a  vow.  "  I  had  already  thought  it  over. 
It  is  best  for  her  own  peace  of  mind  and  happiness, 
best  on  every  account,  that  no  word  of  this  should 
ever  be  spoken  to  her." 

"  But  how  can  it  be,  if  others  —  if  justice  —  surely 
—  do  you  mean  that  the  paper  will  not  be  given  to  — 
will  not  be  disclosed  ?  "  exclaimed  David  Lane,  gasp- 
ing and  confounded  at  the  possibility  of  so  amazing 
a  consummation. 

For  his  sole  reply,  Paul  Barclay  began  to  slowly 
tear  the  confession  into  fragments,  and  scatter  them 
about  him. 

David  Lane  grasped  his  hand  with  the  warmth  of 
excessive  gratitude. 

"  It  is  your  secret  and  mine,"  said  Barclay  ;  "  let 
it  rest  forever  with  us  alone.  It  seems  that  you  have 


386  THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

suffered  as  much  as  we.  Justice  must  be  satisfied. 
Let  Florence  be  the  bond  of  forgiveness  and  union 
between  us." 

"  Oh  !  "  cried  the  other  abjectly,  "  for  this  I  will  be 
your  slave.  I  will  do  whatever  you  wish." 

At  that  moment,  Mrs.  Varemberg  herself  was  seen 
approaching,  from  a  conveyance  that  had  stopped  at 
the  curbstone.  She  came  on  with  a  light,  gliding 
tread,  very  quick  and  elastic  for  her.  She  had  paused 
at  home  only  long  enough  to  throw  over  her  tempest- 
tossed  attire  the  first  enveloping  mantle  found  at 
hand,  an  ample  gray  wrap,  and  to  add  to  this  a  gray 
Tyrolean  hat  with  a  white  wing  in  it.  The  gray, 
with  the  dash  of  white,  in  the  gathering  dusk  of 
evening,  gave  him  a  faint  suggestion  of  some  pensive 
heron  visiting  a  haunted  spring. 

The  site  was  that,  by  the  fountain,  where  Barclay 
had  once  called  her  the  princess  of  the  pearls  and 
diamonds.  As  she  drew  near,  he  was  scattering  to 
the  winds  the  last  fragments  of  the  destroyed  confes- 
sion. David  Lane  precipitated  himself  upon  the 
hand  that  did  this,  and  pressed  it  to  his  lips  in  a 
fervor  of  reverent  gratitude. 

"  I  will  be  your  humble  slave  forever,"  he  said. 
"  Henceforth  I  will  be  and  do  whatever  you  com- 
mand." 

Tears  of  joy  filled  his  eyes  at  the  thought  that 
he  was  not  to  be  disgraced  in  the  sight  of  his  daughter. 

Mrs.  Varemberg  saw  that  something  of  no  common 
import  had  taken  place  between  the  two  men.  Nor 
did  it  seem  to  be  of  an  unfriendly  nature. 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  387 

"  You  are  safe,  you  are  not  harmed  ?  "  she  cried, 
addressing  her  father  in  a  voice  full  of  anxious  affec- 
tion. The  Radbrooks  had  broken  their  harness  in 
driving  to  town,  and  she  had  been  delayed  ;  but  on 
arriving  at  home  and  finding  her  father  not  there,  she 
had  hastened  at  once  to  seek  him. 

There  was  still  a  certain  constraint  in  the  manner 
in  which  he  received  her,  but  her  lover  came  to  her, 
and  took  her  tenderly  in  his  arms.  It  was  done 
openly,  in  the  presence  of  the  other.  There  was  no 
need  of  concealment,  then,  no  opposition  any  longer  ? 

"  Our  troubles  are  over,  my  darling,"  said  Barclay, 
in  answer  to  her  wondering  looks.  "  You  are  mine. 
The  last  obstacles  have  vanished." 

"You  are  friends?"  she  exclaimed,  looking  from 
one  to  the  other,  while  prayers  of  gratitude  welled  up 
from  her  heart.  "  You  are  reconciled  ?  " 

"  Yes,  we  are  friends.  Let  us  speak  no  more  of 
it ;  there  have  been  troubles  enough  in  this  tragic 
day  —  And  yet  our  happiness,  dearest,  has  sprung 
out  of  the  very  midst  of  them." 

He  drew  her  a  little  nearer  to  her  father,  who 
took  one  of  her  hands  also,  so  that  they  were  all 
three  united. 

"  We  had  misunderstood  each  other,  —  that  is  all," 
said  David  Lane,  embarrassed,  offering  the  only  ex- 
planation of  the  past  that  was  given. 

"  Ah  yes,  you  had  misunderstood  each  other,"  she 
murmured,  glad  of  any  consummation  that  had  ended 
it  all,  and  oblivious  as  yet  of  details. 

"  That  will  happen,  even  where  intentions  are  of 


388  TEE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

the  best,"  Barclay  hastened  to  add,  with  all  his  cheer- 
fulness ;  "  and,  once  begun,  such  things  are  often  hard 
to  set  right  But  luckily  it  is  all  over,  and  now  we  are 
going  to  be  as  happy  as  we  can,  all  three  together. 
Tornado  or  no  tornado,  this  will  always  be  the  most 
blissful  day  of  my  life." 

Nor  had  Mrs.  Varemberg's  spirits  wholly  deserted 
her.  She  soon  began  to  examine  with  interest  the 
fallen  statue  which  lay  in  the  midst  of  them,  the  sub- 
ject and  basis  of  their  conference.  "  One  can  no 
longer  exclaim,  *  Great  is  Diana  of  the  Ephesians,' " 
she  said,  quoting  lightly,  "  but  rather,  '  Her '  mag- 
nificence is  destroyed  whom  all  Asia  and  the  world 
worshiped.' " 

"  Not  so  ;  she  is  in  an  excellent  state  to  set  up 
again,  —  better  than  ever,"  rejoined  Barclay.  "  We 
have  just  heard  Schwartzmann  say  so." 

"  Well,  I  do  not  find  myself  too  beautiful  on  so 
mammoth  a  scale.  Thirty-six  feet  of  loveliness  is 
rather  paralyzing.  I  feel  as  if  I  saw  myself  distorted 
in  a  vast  magnifying  mirror." 

"  For  my  part,"  said  Barclay  gallantly,  "  I  could 
find  it  in  my  heart  to  be  in  love  with  her  were  she  a 
hundred  times  as  big.  There  never  can  be  too  much 
of  so  sweet  a  model." 

The  fair,  helmeted  features  did  not  seem  to  indi- 
cate, even  thus  fallen,  broken  hopes  or  gloomy  pros- 
pects. They  smiled  up  a  definite  reassurance,  in- 
stead. It  was  as  if  the  trio  were  consulting  some 
beautiful  sphinx,  who  foretold  for  them  all  a  prosper- 
ous destiny. 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  389 

People  now  began  to  come  and  invade  the  stock- 
ade, which  had  hitherto  given  their  interview  privacy. 
The  mayor  was  in  demand  to  put  himself  at  the  head 
of  affairs.  Urgent  measures  of  relief  were  necessary. 
Loss  of  life  and  tragic  devastation  had  taken  place  in 
many  quarters  of  the  city,  particularly,  perhaps,  on 
the  outskirts,  and  messengers  were  now  beginning  to 
arrive  from  those  districts  in  hot  haste,  with  pressing 
appeals  for  aid. 

Mrs.  Varemberg  seemed  aroused  the  most  keenly 
of  all  to  the  duties  of  the  hour,  forgotten  for  the  mo- 
ment in  the  engrossment  of  their  own  affairs.  "  We 
will  go  with  you,"  she  said  to  her  father.  "  We  will 
celebrate  our  new-found  happiness  by  doing  some- 
thing for  these  sufferers  around  us.  We  will  help 
you.  You  must  make  us  your  lieutenants." 

All  three  went  to  the  mayor's  office.  There  were 
ambulances  to  be  sent  forth,  ruins  to  be  cleared  away, 
food,  clothing,  and  shelter  to  be  provided.  Medicines 
and  surgery  were  needed  for  the  injured,  and  deco- 
rous burial  for  the  slain.  David  Lane,  in  his  enfee- 
bled condition  of  mind  and  body,  would  never  have 
been  equal,  unaided,  to  the  heavy  responsibilities  thus 
suddenly  thrust  upon  him.  It  was  really  Barclay 
who  assumed  the  heat  and  burden  of  the  day,  while 
Mrs.  Varemberg,  up  to  the  furthest  limit  of  her  moder- 
ate strength,  acted  as  a  private  secretary,  full  of  sym- 
pathy and  resource.  And  all  opened  liberally  their 
purses  as  well  as  their  hearts. 

In  considerate  labors  like  these  their  new  existence 
began.  It  was  not  a  question  of  the  toil  of  one  night 


390  TllE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

or  oue  day  alone,  but  of  several.  Such  terror  had 
been  struck  by  the  tornado  that  many  of  the  people 
anxiously  watched  every  passing  cloud  and  puff  of 
air,  and  sat  up  at  night,  ready  dressed  and  with  lan- 
terns burning,  dreading  a  return  of  its  devastations. 
The  excitement  of  such  a  time  had  already  taken 
something  away  from  the  sharpness  and  vividness  of 
those  of  our  friends.  Their  future  at  once  com- 
menced to  blend  imperceptibly  with  the  past.  It  is 
a  rapidly  moving  world  of  ours,  that  does  not  pause 
long  in  amazement  before  any  crises,  even  the  most 
stupendous,  nor  in  wonder  at  any  individual  fortunes, 
however  remarkable.  And  so  their  fate  began  to  be 
woven  again  into  the  general  pattern,  from  which  it 
had  a  little  departed  —  or  rather  departed  only  in 
seeming  ;  for  if  we  pick  up  a  portion  of  the  web,  and 
avert  our  eyes  momentarily  from  the  rest,  it  is  not 
that  we  have  discovered  a  separate  and  complete  pat- 
tern, but  that  we  may  see  the  better  in  this  close  in- 
spection the  strangeness  and  richness  of  the  design 
we  call  life,  in  one  of  its  parts,  and  thus  come  to  a 
clearer  understanding  of  the  whole. 

Shall  it  be  told  here  that  Paul  Barclay  went  on  in 
the  career  of  enlightened  political  usefulness  he  had 
marked  out  for  himself  ?  He  rebuilt  his  factory,  and 
incorporated  into  it  all  his  original  favorite  ideas,  so 
that  its  fame  spread  far  and  wide.  His  popularity,  ob- 
tained by  his  able  and  sympathetic  efforts  in  relieving 
the  suffering  caused  by  the  hurricane,  soon  made  him, 
in  his  turn,  the  mayor  of  the  city.  He  next  served 
in  legislative  bodies  —  by  degrees  approaching  the 


THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  391 

highest  in  the  nation.  It  \vas  thought  that  few  were 
better  equipped  than  he,  by  reason  of  his  extensive 
reading  and  sound  judgment,  his  good  heart  and  pro- 
gressive views,  to  play  a  useful  part  in  all  current  in- 
dustrial questions.  He  would  seem,  too,  one  of  those 
to  whom  the  country  might  best  turn  for  aid  on  the 
greater  economic  matters,  the  conflicts  of  capital  and 
labor,  the  vast  antagonisms  of  social  classes  —  even 
to  the  point  of  taking  arms  in  their  hands,  arid  threat- 
ening the  perpetuity  of  free  institutions  and  civili- 
zation itself  —  that  loom  up  as  the  most  pressing 
questions  of  the  times  and  the  immediate  future. 

And,  if  ever  combatant  in  the  rude  fray  of  life  had 
tender  nurse  to  bind  up  his  wounds,  if  ever  philan- 
thropist and  rising  public  man  had  worthy  consort  to 
grace  his  home,  and  win  the  stronger  support  to  his 
measures  by  her  engaging  personal  charm,  surely 
Paul  Barclay  had  all  this  in  Florence  Lane  —  the 
sweet  model  of  that  Golden  Justice,  which  gleamed 
again  as  the  crowning  ornament,  and  symbol  of  im- 
partial right,  of  Keewaydin. 

The  new  relation  that  sprang  up  between  Paul 
Barclay  and  David  Lane  was  a  strange  one.  There 
was  now  manifested  as  warm  regard  as  there  had 
once  been  hostility  and  estrangement.  The  mayor's 
daughter  was  greatly  touched  by  this,  and,  with  inno- 
cent self-complacency,  ascribed  it  to  her  own  influence. 
Her  heart  swelled  with  joy  and  gratitude  that  their 
affection  for  her  had  thus  brought  them  together,  and 
joined  them  in  bonds  of  enduring  amity. 


392  THE   GOLDEN  JUSTICE. 

By  no  word  or  implication  of  the  younger  man's  was 
the  secret  ever  referred  to,  though  David  Lane,  in 
the  earlier  days,  often  fell  into  his  self-accusing  spirit, 
and  would  have  renewed  the  expression  of  his  re- 
morse. Paul  Barclay  would  have  none  of  it,  but  put 
down,  with  friendly  insistence,  all  painful  recallings 
from  the  past. 

Thus  the  reunited  household  lived  seemingly  in  an 
atmosphere  of  perfect  harmony  and  peace.  But 
David  Lane  did  not  long  survive,  to  enjoy  this  altered 
condition  of  affairs.  He  was  gnawed  within  by  his 
sense  of  self-abasement  and  repentance,  and  perhaps 
but  suffered  the  more  for  the  enforced  suppression  of 
them.  Within  two  years  he  passed  away,  leaving 
his  daughter  to  the  sincerest  regret,  unalloyed  by  any 
stigma  upon  his  memory. 

At  the  beginning  of  her  married  life,  she  had  asked 
her  husband,  it  is  true,  "  How  could  our  happiness 
have  arisen,  as  you  said,  out  of  the  very  calamities  of 
that  disastrous  day  ?  " 

Barclay  had  put  her  off  with  a  careless  answer, 
and,  so  too,  as  often  as  the  subject  was  brought  up, 
he  used  that  kind  prevarication  of  which  perhaps  the 
recording  angel  makes  but  his  lightest  note.  He 
made  it  appear  that  there  had  never  been  any  real 
difference  between  her  father  and  himself,  save  some 
slight  bickerings  by  reason  of  their  different  ages  and 
temperaments,  and  possibly  an  unfortunate  manner 
on  both  sides.  Perhaps  he  had  not  been  very  happy 
in  his  way  of  proposing  for  her  hand,  in  the  first 
place.  Their  tragic  experiences  in  the  tornado  had 


THE  GOLDEN  JUSTICE.  393 

naturally  made  these  bickerings  seem  petty,  and  rec- 
onciliation had  been  easy  when  the  opportunity 
offered.  With  such  words  as  these  the  topic  was 
dropped,  and  was  soon  wellnigh  wholly  forgotten. 

It  was  only  after  many  years  had  rolled  away,  and 
all  possibility  of  shock  or  pain  from  it  seemed  obvi- 
ated, that  Paul  Barclay  at  last  disclosed  the  secret  to 
his  wife.  In  his  heart  he  had  felt  that  he  could  not 
bear  to  be  permanently  separated  from  her  —  united 
as  they  were  in  bonds  of  the  most  tender  confidence  in 
every  other  way  —  even  by  reticence  on  such  a  sub- 
ject. They  were  sitting,  when  he  told  her,  on  the 
grass-grown  tomb  of  David  Lane,  in  the  cemetery, 
and  the  tears  flowed  freely  down  the  cheeks  of  Flor- 
ence, as  she  listened,  but  it  was,  then,  with  hardly 
more  than  such  a  pensive  and  gentle  sadness  as  might 
be  evoked  by  some  mere  far-off,  unreal  and  fanciful 
tale. 


3  1158  00142  8944 


A     000  032  222     2 


